SoanisH Department 




(lass. 



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rhe History of Modern 

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English Synonymes, 

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Life of Lord Byron, 

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" Martha," and " No 

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THE KWH'TNG P AE TT 



J'iw TcH: Tukli.^l,,:d hv J. k J. 7farfu: 



Harper s Stereotype Edition. 

FESTIVALS, 

GAMES, AND AMUSEMENTS. 

Ancient anu J^oueni. 

BY HORATIO SMITH, ESQ. 



Floriferis ut apes in saltibus omnia libant " 

***** :^ 

I Sing of festivals, and fairs, and plays."— 

Herrick. 



WITH ADDITIONS, 

BY SAMUEL WOODWORTH, ESa 

OP NEW-YOKK, 



NEW- YORK: 
PUBLISHED BY HARPER & BROTHERS, 

NO, 82 CLIFF-STREET. 

183 6. 



GVn3 



Gift from 
Miss A«to« H. Bttshee 



MAR 2 i'^4l 



1 



i 



PREFACE. 



The subjects considered in this volume have 
been so thoroughly sifted by professed antiquaries, 
that when they were submitted to the present writer, 
he at once perceived the impossibility of illustrating 
them by any new facts, while he felt the diffi- 
culty of compressing within the narrow limits as- 
signed to him the vast quantity of materials that 
had been accumulated by his predecessors. Com- 
pilation and selection were the principal tasks left 
to him ; — by these means he has endeavoured to 
condense into one little volume the information that 
he found dispersed in many ; and to present in as 
popular and pleasing a form as possible, what has 
been too often encumbered, in more erudite disqui- 
sitions, with learned lore and antiquarian pedantry. 
It is hoped that in thus pruning away the useless 
leaves, in order to render the fruit more evident and 
attractive, little has been sacrificed which, for 
general purposes, it would have been desirable to 
retain. In works of this nature, which profess to 
be little more than summaries and abridgments, it 
is difficult to hit the happy medium between meager 
analysis and the fulness of original inquiry. Some 
readers, in their anxiety for knowledge, will require 
facts rather than comments ; others, who are in 
search of amusement rather than of information, 
will prefer deductions and illustrations to minute- 



Vm PREFACE. 

ness and detail. To satisfy each of these classes 
is scarcely practicable ; but it has been endeavoured 
to conciliate both, as far as possible, by varying the 
treatment of the different subjects, in order to adapt 
them, at least in some degree, to this diversity of 
tastes. 

Instead of attempting to appropriate to himself 
the information of others, by translating it into his 
own phraseology, the present writer has frequently 
adopted the identical language of the original, freely 
using the privilege of omission, or condensation, 
interspersing such observations of his own as sug- 
gested themselves in his progress, and invariably 
stating at the end of each chapter, where his obli- 
gations are not acknowledged by previous foot-notes, 
the authorities whence his materials have been 
derived. 

Only a portion of the spacious field of inquiry 
comprehended in our titlepage could be brought 
within the limits of this little work ; and for the 
same reason many of the notices must inevitably 
be slight and cursory, where the writer could have 
wished to render them more general and enlarged. 
From the inviting subject of the ancient tilts and 
tournaments he was compelled to abstain, because 
these pastimes, belonging to the province of Chiv- 
alry, have already been considered in the twentieth 
volume of this Library. How far the following 
selections have been made with judgment, and pre- 
sented in an eligible form, must be left to the in- 
dulgence of the reader. 
London, 1831. 



CONTENTS. 

Fage 
CHAPTER I.— Festivals, Games, and Amusements, ancient and 

modern 11 

CHAPTER II. — Festivals, Games, and Amusements of the ancient 

Jews 19 

CHAPTER in.— Festivals, Games, and Amusements of the ancient 

Greeks 31 

CHAPTER IV.— Ancient Greek and Roman Drama 41 

CHAPTER v.— Public Games of the Grecians 53 

CHAPTER VI.— The Olympic Games 62 

CHAPTER vn.— Games of the ancient Romans 76 

CHAPTER VIII.— Gladiatorial Games 83 

CHAPTER IX.— Modern Festivals, Games, and Amusements.— 

Historical Retrospect 95 

CHAPTER X.—Holyday Notices 112 

CHAPTER XL— Holyday Notices, concluded. 125 

CHAPTER XII.— Field Sports 141 

CHAPTER XIII.— Field Sports.— Hawking, Archery 148 

CHAPTER Xn^.— Bull-fights and Baiting of Animals 163 

CHAPTER XV.— Bull-fights and Baiting of Animals, concluded. . . 172 

CHAPTER XVI.— Dancing 192 



X CONTENTS. 

Page 
CHAPTER XVII.— Dancing, concluded 204 

CHAPTER XVIII.— The Morris-dancers 217 

CHAPTER XIX.— Jugglers 225 

CHAPTER XX.— Sedentary Amusements.— Music, Minstrels 232 

CHAPTER XXI.— Sedentary Amusements.— Music, concluded. ... 245 

CHAPTER XXII.— Sedentary Amusements.— Playing-cards 255 

CHAPTER XXni.— Sedentary Amusements.— Chess 269 

CHAPTER XXIV.— English Drama 276 

CHAPTER XXV.— English Drama, concluded 288 

CHAPTER XXM.— Playhouse Notices 300 



DIRECTIONS TO THE BINDER. 
A Hawking Party, to face the Titlepage 

Plan of Olympia page 60 

Tomb of Scaurus page 89 



FESTIVALS, GAMES, AND AMUSEMENTS, 

ANCIENT AND MODERN. 



CHAPTER I. 

" Yet in the vulgar this weak humour's bred,— 
They'll sooner be with idle customs led, 
Or fond opinions, such as they have store, 
Than learn of reason or of virtue's lore." 

Wythers. 

When the adage tells us that a man is to be known by 
the company he keeps, it is only to affirm that his character 
is best developed in his amusements ; for the society of 
familiar intercourse is a recreation founded upon congeniality 
of disposition. Our trades, professions, and serious pur- 
suits are not always matter of choice ; nay, they are often 
prosecuted from duty or necessity against our own inclina- 
tions ; and afford, therefore, no certain test of individual 
predilection. It is in our diversions, where we follow the 
spontaneous impulse of the mind, that its genuine qualities 
are revealed. It is here seen, as it were, en deshabille, in 
which state its real beauties and deformities can be much 
more accurately determined than when it is tricked out in 
the appropriate garb of station and profession, or disguised 
in any of the manifold varieties of conventional observance. 
Every man is an actor, who, if he wishes to ensure the suc- 
cessful performance of his part upon the great theatre of the 
world, must practise a certain degree of illusion. To ascer- 
tain the truth we must get behind the scenes, into the pri- 
vacy of the performer's amusements and relaxations — a pro- 
cess by which we shall often discover the verity of the dictum 
that no man is a hero to his valet-de-chambre ; and that ex- 
terior gravity, sanctimonious pretension, and even the su 
perficial qualities of wisdom may be assumed and worn by 



12 FESTIVALS, GAMES, AND AMUSEMENTS, 

triflers, libertines, and simpletons. A man may impose upon 
his spectators in the public business of life, so much of which 
is scenic and fictitious ; but he cannot deceive either him- 
self or others in his private pursuits. There is no hypoc- 
risy in our pleasures : in these nature will always predomi- 
nate ; and the relaxation in which we indulge will be gene- 
rally found proportionate to the previous constraint that 
has warped us from our proper bias ; just as the recoil of 
the unstrung bow will be commensurate with the tension 
from which it is released. 

No censure is implied in this contrast, however extreme, 
so long as the diversions to which we betake ourselves are 
unobjectionable in their nature ; for the greatest minds are 
known to have stooped to simplicity, and even to childish- 
ness in their sports ; as the lark, although it flies higher than 
any other bird, sinks to the lowly ground to repose itself 
and to build its nest. None but a pompous blockhead or 
solemn prig will pretend that he never relaxes, never in- 
dulges in pastime, never wastes his breath in idle waggery 
and merriment. Such gravity is of the very essence of im- 
posture, where it does not spring, as is frequently the case, 
from a morbid austerity or morose ignorance. " Let us be 
wise now, for I see a fool coming," said Plato, when he was 
once joking with his disciples, and saw a churl of this stamp 
approaching them. Occasional playfulness,, indeed, seems 
to be natural to all strong minds. " The most grave and 
studious," says Plutarch, " use feasts, and jests, and toys, 
as we do sauce to our meat." Agesilaus, as everybody 
knows, amused himself and his children by riding on a stick ; 
the great Scipio diverted himself with picking up shells on the 
seashore ; Socrates used to dance and sing by way of re- 
laxation ; the facetious Lucian and the grave Scaliger 
have both confessed the pleasure they found in singing, 
dancing, and music. Maecenas, with his friends Virgil and 
Horace, delighted in sports and games. Shakspeare played 
on the bass-viol, which he accompanied with his voice ; and 
the witty Swift amused himself with hunting and chasing 
his friends, the two Sheridans, through all the rooms of the 
deanery. 

Man is the only animal that laughs, a faculty that would 
hardly have been bestowed upon him unless it were intended 
to be called into exercise. The fantastical and unnatural 



ANCIENT AND MODERN. 13 

severity that disclaims all merriment and relaxation is but 
a different and Lafinitely less pleasing mode of self-love, 
seeking a sullen gratification by affecting to despise the 
gratifications of others. There are individuals, no doubt, in 
whom such solemn strictness may be unaffected : to minds 
that are intrinsically grovelling and low-bent a certain stiff- 
ness and rigidity may be a relief, for an erect tension is the 
natural relaxation of those who have been long stooping. 
Such starched rigorists recall the well-known story of the 
man in the pit of the Dublin theatre, who refused to sit 
down when all the others were seated, upon which a voice 
from the gallery cried out, " Ah ! leave the poor creature 
alone ; he's a tailor, and he's only resting himself." 

It need excite little surprise that the laborious, the learned, 
and the dignified are often not less frivolous in their diver- 
sions than the shallowest loungers and coxcombs. The 
latter may be termed professional triflers, who thus waste 
their hours because they cannot otherwise employ them ; the 
former are amateur idlers, who have been such good econo- 
mists of their time that they can well afford to throw some 
away, and who only relax in order to invigorate their minds. 
Hurdis had formed no erroneous view of human pursuits 
when he exclaimed, 

We trifle all ; and he who best deserves, 
Is but a trifler. What art thou whose eye 
Follows my pen ; or what am 1 that write 1 — 
Both triflers. 

The more trivial our recreations the more accurately will 
they often reveal the qualities of the mind, as the lightest 
feather we can toss up wUl best determine the direction of 
the wind. If this be true of an individual, it will be equally 
applicable to a nation, whose familiar and domestic charac- 
ter we may much better ascertain from their sports, pastimes, 
and amusements, than from those more prominent and im- 
portant features to which historians have usu'illy restricted 
themselves in their delineations. Laws, institutions, em- 
pires, pass away and are forgotten ; but t} e diversions of a 
people, being commonly interwoven with some immutable 
element of the general feeling, or perpetuated by circum- 
stances of climate and locality, will ft-*;quently survive when 
every other national peculiarity has worn itself out and 



14 FESTIVALS, GAMES, AND AMUSEMENTS, 

fallen into oblivion. As the minds of children, modified by 
the forms of society, are pretty much the same in all coun- 
tries and at all epochs, there will be found little variation in 
their ordinary pastimes— a remark equally applicable to 
those nations vv^hich, from their non-advancement in civiliza- 
tion, may be said to have still retained their cliildhood. 
Many of our school-games are known to have existed from 
the earliest antiquity; the diversions of the wild Arabs 
have remained immutable for many ages. Nor do the com- 
mon people of any country easily abandon their most frivo- 
lous amusements, although in every other respect their char- 
acter may have undergone a total change. Nothing can 
be more dissimilar than an ancient and a modem Roman ; 
yet we see the porters and the market-people of the Eternal 
City seated on the ruins of her forgotten grandeur, and 
playing at the game of the morra,* exactly as they are re- 
corded to have done in the days of the republic and of the 
emperors. Even in royal life we are enabled by occasional 
glimpses of history to trace an identity of amusement at 
very different periods. From the circumstance of his using 
his prisoner, the Roman emperor Valerian, as his footstool 
when he mounted his horse, we know that Sapor, the mon- 
arch of Persia, used to hunt with ounces or leopards trained 
to act as hounds, and carried out to the field in wooden 
cages ; a mode of sporting which, aft;er the lapse of fifteen 
centuries, continues to be a favourite pastime with the na- 
tive princes of India, who run down the antelope with the 
hunting leopard or cheeta. 

Although toil and sorrow, the penalties of the fall, seem 
to have been entailed upon the bulk of mankind as their 
sole and melancholy inheritance, we read not of any canon 
that prohibits a temporary alleviation of their doom by 
means of sports, pastimes, and amusements. These indeed 
may be said to form a portion of our very nature ; the con- 
stitution both of the human mind and body unfitting them 
for incessant occupation, and imperatively dictating occa- 
sional diversion as an indispensable condition of their healthy 
exercise. To trace the variation in the nature of these res- 
pites from anxiety and drudgery, had we sufficient 'mate- 
rials for closely following up the inquiry, would be to record 

* Guessing at the number of fingers suddenly held up. 



ANCIENT AND MODERN. )5 

the progress of the human mind, deriving our data from the 
pleasant fields of public sport and private recreation, instead 
of exploring those revolting fields of battle, and not less re- 
pugnant scenes of crime, violence, and misery, which offer 
such abundant resources to the historian. Happiness and 
amusement, how^ever, are deemed unworthy of notice by 
the annalist, who seems to imagine that the reader, while he 
finds delight in the carnage, revolution, and angry passions 
that have harassed his fellow-creatures, can have little plea- 
sure in conveying the few and fleeting enjoyments that may 
have soothed their turbulent career. 

In the recorded manners of different nations, as they have 
been handed down to us by ancient writers, we catch, how- 
ever, occasional though unconnected glimpses of their pub- 
lic and private recreations. Of these we shall freely avail 
ourselves as opportunity may occur ; but without reference 
to such specific sources of information, the general princi- 
ples of our nature will enable us to form a rough outline 
of the changes that have taken place in the amusements of 
mankind at large, according to the influences of time and 
civilization. At the outset of the world, ere the agricul- 
tural state had commenced, and when the few inhabitants 
of the earth were too much occupied in providing for their 
subsistence to have made even the rudest attempts at 
civilization, we can hardly imagine them to have indulged 
in any other diversion than field-sports ; if it be not a mis- 
nomer to apply that term to the painful and precarious toil 
of naked savages, urged to the chase by the cravings of 
hunger, or compelled to struggle with wild ijeasts for the 
doubtful possession of their lairs and caverns. Most pain- 
ful it is to fix our contemplations upon a period when this 
majestical sun-lighted globe, so beautiful and magnificent in 
itself, and filling so glorious a part in the sublime pageant 
of the God-directed universe, was doomed, for some inscru- 
table object of the Divine wisdom, to purposes apparently 
so unworthy of the splendid stage upon which they were 
performed : when man, whose reasoning faculties were yet 
undeveloped, was little superior to the beasts he chased : 
when the tearing of limbs, the shedding of blood, and mu- 
tual destruction were the sole and incessant occupation of 
every animated being, until death, the universal hunter, 
who, though he may sometimes prolong the chase, nevei 



16 FESTIVALS, GAMES, AND AMUSEMENTS, 

eventually spares his prey, ran down and annihilated every 
thing that moved upon the face of the earth. By compar- 
ing the world as it then existed with the happiness and 
widely-diffused civilization with which it is now blessed, 
and above all, by contrasting the hourly-improving intel- 
lectual eminence of the living generation with the ignorant 
barbarism of the early ages, we may form some conception, 
though probably but a dim one, of the glorious destiny 
which a beneficent Providence has reserved for mankind, 
even in our present sphere. 

When mankind had partially advanced to the agricultural 
state, we find that their most distinguished heroes and 
demigods were sportsmen and hunters, whose exploits, 
although subsequently dressed up in fable by the poets, had 
doubtless, in most instances, a basis of fact. Every nation 
has its Nimrod ; nor need we doubt that there must have 
been some foundation for the marvellous adventures recorded 
of Orion, Apollo, Hercules, and other monster-destroyers, 
if we recollect that the fossil remains of those gigantic 
quadrupeds, the mammoth and the megalonix, establish the 
fact that the earth was formerly infested with terrible animals 
whose races have now become extinct, and whose existence 
was once deemed as fabulous as we now deem the legendary 
labours of Hercules. This potent sportsman, and others 
of the same stamp, seem to have been the knights-errant 
of the early ages, who wandered about the world tilting at 
dragons, minotaurs, and similar culprits, and to whom the 
honour of deification was awarded by the grateful people 
delivered from such formidable ravagers. Poetry soon in- 
vested their achievements with fictitious embellishments ; a 
circumstance almost necessary to the success of any narra- 
tive, when the world was in its childhood, and readers pos- 
sessing the taste of children, who always find simple truth 
insipid, required to be stimulated by the marvellous and the 
supernatural. Of such puerilities we find an abundant 
supply in the nonage of our own literature. Numerous 
troops of dragons survived the heroic ages, seeking every 
opportunity of attacking holy hermits and pious wanderers, 
if we are to believe the legends of the saints, whose com- 
mentators indignantly reject any spiritual interpretation of 
these desperate conflicts, and insist that every devout cham- 
pion thus assailed maintained a not less perilous and 



ANCIENT AND MODERN. 17 

triumphant battle than did the doughty Saint George. The 
celebrated Moore, of Moore Hall, appears to have been the 
last of our British sportsmen who was so fortunate as to 
encounter a bona-fide dragon. In the dun cow hunted 
down and killed by Guy Earl of Warwick we have an imi- 
tation, although but a sorry one, of Theseus and his mino- 
taur ; while the Laidly Worm, of ballad renown, presents 
us a serpent, inferior doubtless to the Pythian monster slain 
by the darts of Apollo, although sufficiently formidable to 
have conferred no mean celebrity on its destroyer. 

A certain degree of rudeness, and not unfrequently of 
coarseness and cruelty, characterizes all the amusements 
of remote antiquity, which, being unrefined by any intel- 
lectual mixture, were chiefly calculated to display and in- 
vigorate the bodily qualities of the parties who engaged in 
them. Many of their pastimes were but imitations of the 
different military exercises ; and though vaulting, racing, 
wrestling, throwing the bar or the quoit, and cudgel-play- 
ing might not be directly referable to this object, they con- 
duced to it collaterally by strengthening the body, inuring 
it to fatigue, and preparing it for war, which in such bar- 
barous times was considered the paramount business of life. 
Strength and courage, the sole constituents of a hero, were 
then exercised without mercy in the field of battle, and 
imparted a touch of ferocity even to those nominally ami- 
cable contests that were celebrated on days of festival. 
Hunting and field-sports^ moreover, which at this early 
epoch were so widely pursued, and which in all ages retain 
the same character of cruelty, must have stamped upon the 
general miud a savageness that could scarcely fail to betray 
itself in the hours of pastinae and relaxation. What in- 
deed can be expected from the diversions of a rude untu- 
tored people, but that they should evince manifest traits of 
violence and barbarism, even where they do not degenerate 
into actual brutality 1 

Such is the character of the earliest games recorded in 
history, whether fabulous or authentic. In the sports of 
the Argonauts, after their return, Cycnus, the son of Mars, 
killed Diodotus, and was himself slain by Hercules. The 
games described in the twenty-fourth book of the Iliad, the 
eighth of the Odyssey, and by Virgil in the fifth book of 
the iEneid, are mere struggles of bodily strength and skill, 
B2 



18 FESTIVALS, GAMES, AND AMUSEMENTS 

frequently marked by dangerous violence, and always unre- 
lieved by any intellectual competition. The game of the 
cestus, or loaded gauntlet, a murderous weapon, was in 
high favour with the heroes and demigods. Amycus, king 
of the Bebrycians, compelled all strangers who touched 
upon his coast to try their skill in managing this rude in- 
strument, which proved fatal to most of those who accepted 
his friendly challenge ; but the royal athlete was at length 
defeated at his own favourite pastime, and slain by Pollux. 
In a more advanced stage of civilization, however, after 
wealth and luxuiy had been introduced — when there were 
whole classes of unemploj'^ed men and women who had as 
yet no resource in literary pursuits, and who eagerly sought 
relief from the tedium of inoccupation — we may presume 
a variety of games and amusements to have been invented. 
These, as they were intended for people averse from any 
violent exercise or fatigue, would only call the powers of 
the body into a gentle exercise, calculated for the purposes 
of health ; while others, wholly sedentary in their nature, 
would address themselves more or less to the faculties of 
the mind. This second stage, by making the intellect par- 
ticipate with the body and the senses in our amusements, 
not only gave an immediate exaltation to their character, but 
prepared the way for those subsequent meliorations which, 
under the influence of the diffusion of knowledge occa- 
sioned by the discovery of printing, have been gradually re- 
fining, elevating, and humanizing our diversions. It must 
be confessed that in England they still retain many traits 
of barbarism which have long since fallen into desuetude 
with our more polished neighbours of the continent ; but 
at the same time it should be remembered that the Corin- 
thian classes, who in the days of Queen Elizabeth flocked 
to bull, bear, badger, ape baitings, and other exhibitions 
equally cruel and ruffianly, would be now held utterly dis- 
graced, at least in the estimation of real gentlemen, by par- 
ticipating in such low-lived sports. The charms of music, 
of the drama, of literature, of social meetings that combine 
" the feast of reason with the flow of soul ;" all those pur- 
suits, in short, wherein the pleasures of sense are made 
subservient to the gratifications of the mind — these are the 
amusements alone worthy of rational people, and these 
receive the especial patronage of the English gentry. 



OF THE ANCIENT JEW^ 19 

In the present hasty summary it is not our purpose to 
notice the gradations by which this striking improvement 
has been effected, nor shall we point out what yet remains 
to be accomplished, in order to perfectionate the manners 
of the age with reference to its amusements. Hints, how- 
ever, upon both these points may incidentally be given in 
the course of the following little work, to which we shall 
now proceed, only premising that although we shall briefly 
discuss some of the sports and diversions of ancient times 
and foreign nations, we shall not treat the subject as if we 
were writing for professed antiquaries, but rather in a popu- 
lar and anecdotical manner ; and that it will be the chief 
object of our inquiries to record and elucidate the pastimes 
which at various periods have been prevalent in our own 
country. 



CHAPTER II. 



Festivals^ Games, and Amusements of the Ancient Jews. 

" There, take thy pastime and do what thou wilt, hut sin not by proud 
Bpeech."— JSccZ. xxxii. 12. 
"Now, therefore, see that thou make a copy of these things." 

1 Mace. xi. 37. 

As the Jews are the earliest nation of whom we have 
any authentic records, they are entitled to our first attention 
in the following inquiries. From their warlike character, 
the theocratical form of their government, their stern fa- 
naticism, and that stubborn intolerance of all foreign cus- 
toms which led them to repudiate with loathing the sports 
and pastimes of the gentiles, it has been concluded by many 
that they were averse from public shows, or social amuse- 
ment of any description. This is but the repetition of an 
old charge adduced against them by their Roman conquerors ; 
but instead of inferring such an anomaly in the history of 
the human race as that a whole people should reject the 
occasional recreations which our common nature impera- 
tively requires, it would have been more judicious to sur- 



20 festi\!;a.ls, games, and amusements 

mise that although they differed in these respects, as iit 
every thing else, from the surrounding nations, they must 
have had some diversions peculiar to themselves. In 
inquiring into their nature it will be seen that they were of 
a loftier character and even of more frequent occurrence 
than those of the Pagans, to which they scarcely bore more 
resemblance than to the pastimes of the existing generation. 

Game-laws, that remnant of a barbarous age which forms 
the grossest outrage upon modem civilization, were unknown 
to the Israelites : whatever they found in their fields they 
might without scruple consider as their property, and hunt, 
catch, or kill as they chose, with no other restriction upon 
this common and natural right than such as was imposed 
hy the limitations of the seventh year. Whatever grew 
in that year on the fallow land was for the game,* which 
was then to be left umnolested. From the dense popula- 
tion, and the scarcity of cover in Palestine, it is probable, 
notwithstanding this measure for its preservation, that 
among a nation of farmers, all equally licensed for its 
destruction, it would soon become too scarce to afford 
amusement in its pursuit. Certain it is that field-sports, 
in the ordinary acceptation of that term, seem to have been 
little practised by the ancient Jews. Some of the common 
objects of the chase, such for instance as the hare, being 
pronounced unclean by the law, and placed among the pro- 
hibited meats, could not be eaten, although they might be 
destroyed as depredators. From the expression of Moses, 
that oxen, sheep, and goats throughout Palestine might be 
eaten even as the hart and the roe, we may conclude that 
these latter animals furnished the chief prey of the sports- 
man. The Jewish legislator, however, gives no ordinance 
for the regulation of the chase, nor do his writings afford 
any clew by which his intentions in this respect can be 
divined. Perhaps he considered the matter too trifling to 
deserve special regulation : perhaps he held it better adapted 
for local poUcy than for any general law, except that of the 
sabbatical year. 

Anxiety to prevent the extirpation of the game, com- 
bined with that humanity towards animals which forms so 
prominent and honourable a feature of the Mosaic law, 

* Exod. xxiii. 2 ; Lev. xxv. 7. 



OF THE ANCIENT JEWS. 2i 

dictated, however, several minor directions not altogether 
irrelevant to this point. It is the command of Moses, that if 
a person find a bird's nest in the way, whether in a tree or 
on the ground, though he may take the eggs or the young, 
he shall not take the mother, but always allow her to escape. 
From analogy we might perhaps infer that no one durst kill 
the hind either when pregnant or when suckling the fawn. 
Both these rules are observed by modern sportsmen as neces- 
sary for the renewal of the game ; but as there was no privi- 
leged class among the Jews interested in preserving it for 
their own amusement ; as they were, on the contrary, mostly 
farmers who would be benefited by its extinction, we may 
safely conclude that if it did not altogether disappear, it soon 
became too scarce to allow the existence of such a character 
as a mere sportsman : an inference supported by the general 
silence of the Bible upon this subject. 

A law so delicate in its humane injunctions, so averse 
even from an appearance of cruelty, that it forbade the Jews 
from seething the kid in its mother's milk,* would of course 
be understood even without any express injunction, as pro- 
hibitory of horse-racing, the bating of beasts, animal com- 
bats, and similar barbarous pastimes. Still more impe- 
ratively would it be held to interdict those savage sports 
where human beings destroyed one another for the gratifi- 
cation of a brutal populace. Gladiatorial games and the 
brutalizing scenes of the arena were abhorred by the Jews, 
not only as infractions of their peculiar law, but as being 
utterly repugnant to the common law of nature. The strug- 
gle of the twenty- four combatants, whom Abnet and Joab 
caused to play before them until they were all unnaturally 
murdered, bears some resemblance, indeed, to a gladiatorial 
combat ; but as it occurred in the presence of two hostile 
armies, it should rather perhaps be viewed as a challenge 
between an equal number of champions selected from the 
hostile ranks. From arts and literature the early Hebrews 
appear to have derived no amusement whatever. Owing 
to a mistaken interpretation of the decalogue, they held 
statuary and painting to be flagrant offences in the sight of 
the Lord, as having an idolatrous tendency. No theatre, 
no circus, no hippodrome, no gallery, nor odeum, was to be 

• This law, though doubtless calculated to prevent cruelty, bore refer- 
ence chiefly to a gross and idolatrous practice among the Canaanites. 



22 FESTIVALS, GAMES, AND AMUSEMENTS 

found within the walls of Jerusalem or in the whole terri' 
tory of Palestine ; until in the latter days of the nation, 
when the corruption, degeneracy, and neglect of every 
sacred injunction that disgraced the reign of Herod led 
them to adopt many of the heathen practices, and piepared 
the way for the final downfall of the people. 

In what then, it may be asked, consisted the sports and 
pastimes of the Jews, since they refused, with such an in- 
flexible obstinacy, to adopt those of other nations, and do 
not appear to have possessed any public shows or amuse- 
ments of their own 1 It will not be difficult to answer this 
question, if we recollect that as religion was the source of 
all their institutions, and the observance of its injunctions 
the chief public duty they had to perform, they must have 
derived from it their pleasures as well as their occupations. 
The sacred ceremonies which, exclusively of the pomp 
of sacrifice, the perfume of rich odours, and a stately dis- 
play of gorgeously-attired processionists in the courts of 
their venerated temple, and in the presence of a whole 
assembled people, combined the attractions of male and 
female dancers with all the enchantments of the most ex- 
quisite musicians and singers, were not only incomparably 
more grand, imposing, and magnificent, as a mere spectacle, 
than any theatrical exhibition that the world could produce, 
but appealed to the heart while they delighted the eye, 
gratified the soul as well as the sense, awakened feelings 
of patriotism as well as of religion, and by uniting the splen- 
dours of earth to the glorious hopes of heaven, constituted a 
union of fascinations which no sensitive or pious Jew could 
have contemplated without an ecstasy of delight. Well 
might the people of the liord, whose highest duties were 
thus enlivened and sweetened by a public festival, and 
whose pleasures were sanctified and exalted by religious 
associations, look down with contempt on the cruel sports 
and vulgar pastimes of the heathen. So long as the He- 
brew people retained their attachment to their religion, they 
remained satisfied with the festivals and stately celebrations 
that it afforded ; and not until all classes were desecrated 
by a general impiety, did they consent to adopt the games 
and amusements of their Roman conquerors. This inno- 
vation seems to have been first openly practised in the time 
of the Maccabees, when Jason, a Hellenised Jew, having 



OF THE ANCIENT JEWS, 23 

procured himself to be illegally made high-priest, " Forth- 
with brought his own nation to the Greekish faction, and 
brought up new customs against the law ; for he built gladly 
a place of exercise under the tower itself, and brought the 
chief young men under his subjection, and made them wear 
a hat. Now such was the height of Greek fashions, and 
increase of heathenish manners, through the exceeding 
profaneness of Jason, that ungodly wretch and no high- 
priest, that the priests had no courage to serve any more at 
the altar ; but despising the temple, and neglecting the 
sacrifices, hastened to be partakers of the unlawful allow- 
ance in the place of exercise, after the game of discus 
called them forth."* Herod subsequently completed what 
Jason had begun, building a hippodrome even within the 
walls of the Holy City, and another at Cffisarea. 

It would be a wide error to suppose, with the ancient 
Pagans, that because the Jews had no other public diver- 
sions than those furnished by their sacred ceremonies, 
they must be necessarily a gloomy, saturnine, and unsocial 
people. A directly contrary inference would be justified by 
the ^ character of their religion, which was essentially as 
festive and joyous as that of the pagans, and infinitely more 
so than would be deemed consistent with the notions of 
modem puritans and rigorists, or even with the interests 
of state policy. 

At a time when we are abolishing our holydays, and many 
well-meaning but mistaken people are anxious to restrict, as 
much as possible, the few diversions and the scanty hours 
of relaxation allowed to the labouring classes, it may not 
be uninstructive to exhibit a statement of the whole number 
of Sabbaths and other holydays which Moses prescribed to 
the Israehtes. In a year of twelve moons the following holy- 
days were ordered to be kept : 

1. Twelve new moons 12 days 

2. The Feast of the Passover 7 

3. The Pentecost 7 

4. The great Day of Atonement .... 1 

5. The Feast of Tabernacles 8 

in all 35 days ; 
but of these thirty-five days five would fall, taking one year 

* 2 Maccabees iv. 10-14. 



24 FESTIVALS, GAMES, AND AMUSEMENTS 

with another, upon the weekly Sabbath, and must therefore 
be deducted from the total number ; and besides, among the 
thirty-five holydays there were but eight festal Sabbaths on 
which they durst not work. 

" According therefore to the Mosaic law, if we reckon 
fifty-two weekly Sabbaths, and thirty holydays, the Israelites 
kept eighty-two sacred days in the year ; namely, fifty-nine 
on which there was an entire cessation from labour, and 
twenty-three wherein they might work if they chose, and 
on some of which indeed their greatest traffic occurred. 
Of fast-diys there was only one, and that too, we should re- 
mark, in a southern climate, where fasting is easier and more 
common than with us."* 

Besides these there were other festivals, not of Mosaic 
appointment ; of which sort appears to have been the 
yearly festival, when the young women of Shiloh danced by 
the highway-side (Judg. xxi. 19). It is probable that other 
cities as well as Jerusalem had their particular holydays : 
and we might almost conclude that family festivals were not 
unusual, since Jonathan, to apologize for David's absence 
from the royal table, pretended that he had been obliged to 
attend a family sacrifice at Bethlehem. This indeed was 
not true ; but the practice must have been common, or 
Jonathan would not have resorted to such a pretext. Among 
the feasts instituted in addition to those enjoined by Moses, 
we may notice the feast of Purim, or lots, appointed by 
Esther and Mordecai to commemorate the deliverance of 
the Jews from the massacre which Haman had by lot deter- 
mined against them, and in the celebration of which that 
arch enemy of their race was treated with ridiculous indig- 
nities, not altogether dissimilar from those which we heap 
upon the effigy of Guy Fawkes. Of a more rational nature 
was the Festival of the Dedication, instituted by Judas Mac- 
cabeus, to commemorate the recovery of the Temple from 
the Syro-grecians, and its renewed dedication to the service 
of the true God. This feast, which was observed in other 
places as well as at Jerusalem, lasted eight days, which we 
must add, as well as those consumed in the wild festivities 
of the Purim, to the eighty-two holydays already enume- 
rated, making altogether above a fourth part of the year 

* See Michaelis, art. 201 ; a learned writer, to whose commentaries 
the author acknowledges his obligations in this brief sketch. 



OF THE ANCIENT JEWS. 25 

set aside for purposes of commingled religion and amuse- 
ment. 

Having stated the number of these celebrations, it may 
be necessary to say something of their nature, in order to 
show that they were not merely rehgious observances, but 
for the most part festivals and holydays, in the cheerful and 
joyous sense which we ourselves assign to those words, and 
as such strictly entitled to be ranked among the sports, 
pastimes, and amusements of the people. Of the three 
high festivals, when all the males of Israel were obliged to 
assemble at the sanctuary, two lasted seven days, for which 
sabbatical number the Jews had a particular reverence ; — 
and the third was continued during eight days ; but we 
must guard against the notion that during all this time 
labour or occupation w^ere interdicted. Such a prohibition, 
especially to an uneducated people, would have been the 
severest of all punishments, for no burden is so insupport- 
able to the mass of mankind as that of protracted and com- 
pulsory idleness. Only the first and last of these festival 
days were Sabbaths, on which there was to be no work : 
on the remaining five the people might labour, or employ 
themselves in whatever way they thought fit ; and there is 
reason to believe that in this interval the great fairs of the 
whole nation were held, when the most business would of 
course be done, and during the continuance of which we 
may conclude there was no lack of the pastimes and diver- 
sions that characterize similar merry-meetings in our own 
times. 

During the eight days of the Feast of Tabernacles, which 
was the festival of gratitude for the fruits and vintage, the 
Israelites dwelt in booths formed of green branches inter- 
woven together, an embowered mode of encamping, which 
in conjunction with the festive occasion, the beauty of the 
October weather, and the pleasant excitement of social in- 
tercourse upon so extensive a scale, must have naturally 
predisposed them to indulge in every species of joyful re- 
creation and amusement. They who had been specially 
ordered to " serve the Lord with gladness, and come into 
his presence with a song," thought they could not better 
solemnize the intermediate days of the high festivals than 
by oflferings, feasts, and dances, accompanied by hymns, in 
which the bounty of the Deity was celebrated : thus moral- 
C 



26 FESTIVALS, GAMES, AND AMUSEMENTS 

izing and sanctifying their pleasures by uniting :hem with 
reUgion. Their festivals, in short, were days of pleasure, 
on which they gave or received entertainments, and in the 
joys of which the poor and the slaves were entitled to par- 
ticipate. Feast-offerings were not to be frugal every-day 
meals, but real merry-meetings, intended to supply good 
cheer to widows, orphans, strangers, and paupers, as well 
as to the offerer and his friends ; and wine, so far from 
being forbidden by Moses, is expressly appointed for an 
accompaniment both to blood and to meal-offerings, as if 
nothing might be wanting that could exhilarate and delight 
the people on these joyous occasions. Moses commonly 
terms such banquets, rejoicing before Jehovah, and in order 
to make the intention of the festal-offerings more fully un- 
derstood, he sometimes adds that they should rejoice before 
Jehovah in the intervals of their labours, that is, interrupt 
their ordinary occupations by these joyous assemblages, and 
lighten them by the good cheer of the feasts. It is recorded, 
to the especial praise and glory of Solomon, that the people 
of Judah and Israel were numerous as the sand of the sea 
— " Eating and drinking and making anerry."* Nor are 
the Scriptures elsewhere sparing in exhortations to " make 
merry before the Lord." 

Dancing, during which songs of praise were sung, formed 
a very ancient part of the festal solemnities of the He- 
brews. After the passage of the Red Sea the damsels 
of Israel, with Miriam at their head playing on the tabret, 
sang and danced in celebration of that miraculous event. 
David himself danced at the induction of the ark into the 
tabernacle : we learn from the 68th Psalm, that singers, 
minstrels, and damsels playing on timbrels accompanied the 
sacred processions, and these probably danced also. The 
yearly festival held not far from Sliiloh, at which the 
damsels were seized by the Benjamites, consisted of the 
same amusement. From these authorities, and from the 
still more explicit terms of Psalm cxlix. 3, and el. 4, we 
may reasonably maintain that dancing was expressly com- 
manded by the Lord, and it becomes, therefore, the more 
difficult to understand how certain gloomy censors and 
theologians can condemn as sinful a practice which was 

* 1 Kings iv. 20. 



OF THE ANCIENT JEWS. 27 

distinctly enjoined under the Old Testament, and is no- 
where forbidden by the New. If it were thus prevalent in 
the public ceremonies of the Hebrews, we cannot doubt that 
the same recreation, varied by music and singing, consti- 
tuted one of the principal attractions in their private enter- 
tainments, and in the amusements of the domestic circle. 

Although the injunction for attendmg the Israelitish 
festivals was only imperative upon the males, the fathers, 
we may presume, gratified their daughters by taking them 
up to the Holy City upon these occasions, thus affording to 
the men an opportunity of seeing and dancing with all the 
young beauties of the nation. By these means marriages 
were promoted between individuals of the different tribes, 
family friendships were formed, and a general brotherhood and 
bond of social love was established among the twelve petty 
states which constituted the Jewish people. Religion, 
commerce, and amusement were thus combined in these 
great annual conventions, which so far resembled in their 
first elements the Olympic games of the (jrreeks, and may 
be equally classed as national sports, although they were 
immeasurably more august and rational, both as respects 
their divine origin and the mode of their celebration. 

Exclusively of the minor festivals, which were all ob- 
served with a similar hilarity, civil feasts and entertain- 
ments were commonly kept at the weaning of children, at 
the making of covenants, at marriages, at the shearing of 
sheep, and on other amicable occasions. At these merry- 
meetings they seem to have appointed a symposiarch, whose 
duty it was to promote the general hilarity. — " If thou be 
made the master of the feast," says the author of Eccle- 
siasticus,* " take diligent care for them — and when thou 
hast done all thy office, take thy place that thou mayst be 
merry with them, and receive a crown for thy well ordering 
of the feast. — ;Pour not out words where there is a musi- 
cian ; and show not forth wisdom out of time. A concert 
of music in a banquet of wine is as a signet of carbuncle set 
in gold. As a signet of an emerald set in a work of gold, 
so is the melody of music with pleasant wine. There, take 
thy pastime and do what thou wilt, but sin not by proud 
speech." The Hebrews, in fact, so far from being an aus- 

* xxxii. 1, 2, 5, 6, 12. 



28 FESTIVALS, GAMES, AND AMUSEMENTS 

tere or unjoyous people, seem to have eagerly seized every 
opportunity that afforded them a reasonable excuse for 
festive hospitality. That this natural cheerfulness some- 
times pushed them to excess, even in their religious festi- 
vals, is sufficiently attested by the mode in which they cele- 
brated the feast of Purim, which it must, however, be recol- 
lected was not of Mosaic institution. After several strange 
and not very decorous indignities heaped upon the effigy of 
Haman, they were accustomed to spend the rest of the day 
in feasting, sports, and dissolute mirth, each sex dressing 
themselves in the clothes of the other, and practising a 
variety of mad frolics, while the rabbins, pretending that 
Esther obtained the deliverance of her countrymen by in- 
toxicating Ahasuerus, allowed the people to stupify them- 
selves with drink. Excesses such as these, especially in 
connexion with religious observances, it is not intended to 
vindicate ; they are merely adduced as tending to exculpate 
the Jews from the charge of ascetical severity to which 
they have been sometimes subjected. 

Such importance seems to have been attached by Moses 
to the universal unrestricted enjoyment of these festivals, 
and of the periodical respite from labour prescribed by the 
Sabbath, that he has carefully extended his benevolent 
regulations in this respect to the lowest classes of human 
beings, and even to the labouring animals and beasts of 
burthen. Scripture expressly tells us that one design of 
the Sabbath was to give a day of rest to slaves ; — and the 
Israelites, in order to make them the more compassionate 
in this respect, are reminded of their own servitude in 
Egypt, when they longed in vain for days of repose.* At 
all the high festivals and great entertainments they were 
ordered not to eat the tithes, firstlings, or offerings within 
their gates, but to make them a public banquet, to which 
the male and female slaves should be invited, as well as 
the stranger, the fatherless, and the widow. t Such occa- 
sions were, therefore, a sort of saturnalia for the lower 
orders ; " and we cannot but extol the clemency and humanity 
of that law which procured them, twice or thrice a year, a few 
days' enjoyment of those luxuries which they would doubtless 
relish the more the poorer their ordinary food might be."J 

* Deut. V. 14, 15, t Deut. xii. 17, 18, and xvi. 11. I Michaelis, art. 128 , 



OF THE ANCIENT JEWS. 29 

It has been thought by some that the statute which pro- 
hibits muzzHng the ox while threshing the corn, was meant 
to be extended to servants, who were not to be tantalized 
with the preparation of food which they were not allowed 
to taste. 

When Job wishes to describe the avarice and hardheart- 
edness of the wicked, he says, " They take away the sheaf 
from the hungry, which make oil within their walls, and 
tread their wine-presses and suifer thirst :"* and in proof 
that this construction of the Mosaic ordinance is supported 
by the practices of the ancient Jews, Michaelis (art. 130) 
quotes the following rabbinical doctrine : — " The workman 
may lawfully eat of what he works among : in the vintage 
he may eat of grapes ; when gathering figs he may par- 
take of them ; and in harvest he may eat of the ears of 
corn. Of gourds and dates he may eat the value of a de- 
narius." Moses has not even forgotten the poor wanderers 
who were exposed to casual hunger, in which case he seems 
to have imagined that the natural right of food superseded 
all laws of property, and has allowed the eating of fruits 
and grapes in other peoples' gardens and vineyards without 
restraint. 

Not content with these ordinances, so obviously meant 
to secure to all animated beings stated periods of rest, and 
an equal enjoyment of the produce of the earth and the 
blessings of existence, Moses extended his benevolent regu- 
lations even to inanimate nature, by ordering that in every 
seventh year the land itself should remain untilled, that it 
might enjoy the Sabbath of the Lord. During this fallow 
year the corn-fields were neither sown nor reaped ; the 
vines were unpruned, and there were no grapes gathered : 
the whole of Palestine continued a perfect common, and 
every thing reverted, as it were, to a state of nature. This 
repose of the soil was to be consecrated to God, who de- 
clared that all his creatures, both of the human and inferior 
species, might then assert an equal right to the spontaneous 
produce of the earth. Whatever grew, instead of being 
the property of any individual, belonged alike to all, to the 
poor, the bondman, the day-labourer, the stranger, the cat- 
tle that ranged the fields, and the very game, which no man 

* Job xxiv. 10, ». 
C2 



30 FESTIVALS, GAMES, AND AMUSEMENTS 

durst then scare from his grounds. During this continued 
festival debts were forborne or forgiven, and bond-servants, 
who had served a certain number of years, might demand 
their manumission. It has been conjectured that the chief 
object of this singular law was not only to teach the He- 
brews that their land was the Lord's property, but to pro- 
mote the accumulation of corn in stores, and thus guard 
against a famine, the importance of which precaution 
Moses must have known from the history of Joseph, and 
the practice of Egypt. The liberated bond-servants, whose 
masters were bound by the benevolent injunctions of Moses 
to present them, among other things, with one or two sheep, 
were enabled also, during this year of release, not only to 
procure a maintenance for themselves, but to find pasturage 
for their cattle, and to lay the foundation of a little flock. 
How a nation of husbandmen could find occupation without 
tillage or avoid the pernicious effects of a whole year's idle- 
ness, we have no means of judging. Their games and 
amusements, whatever was their nature, must have been 
called into active exercise. 

But the greatest, most general, and most glorious festival 
ever recorded in history, or practised by any people, was the 
demi-centennial jubilee, at the commencement of which the 
glad sound of trumpets and of rams' horns proclaimed 
liberty throughout the whole land ; whatever debt the He- 
brews owed to one another was to be wholly remitted ; hired 
as well as bond-servants were set free ; and the inheritances 
that had been alienated reverted to their original proprietors. 
During this whole period, as in the sabbatical year, no ser- 
vile work was to be performed, the land was to remain un- 
tilled, and its spontaneous produce belonged to the poor and 
needy. 

By this law Moses probably intended to bring back the 
nation to its original state, to preserve equality among the 
people, and to prevent that tendency to accumulation which 
rapidly divides a community into a few rich and a numerous 
body of poor. But it soon fell into desuetude, and indeed 
it is not easy to conceive how it could long remain in 
operation ; for as the men of property would naturally 
become the most influential in legislative enactments, they 
were pretty sure to abrogate a law which would confiscate 
their newly acquired estates every fifty years. This insti- 



O* TilJE: ANCIENT GREEKS. 31 

tution, therefore, as well as that of the sabbatical year, if 
not formally rescinded, appears to have been very soon 
ncglectedc Both are important, not from their earlier or 
later discontinuance, but as showing the intentions of 
Moses, than whom a more benevolent legislator never ex- 
"Tsted, so far as the comforts of his own people were con- 
cerned ; though in the intensity of his national selfishness, 
he had no toleration whatever towards the Canaanites, and 
not much for the other gentiles. It is worthy of remark 
that the government he established, the only one imme- 
diately claiming a Divine author, was founded on the most 
democratical and even levelling principles. It was a theo- 
cratical commonwealth, having the Deity himself for its 
king. Agriculture was the basis of the Mosaic polity ; all 
the husbandmen were on a footing of perfect equality ; 
riches conferred no permanent pre-eminence ; there were 
neither peasantry nor nobility, unless the Levites might be 
considered a sort of priestly aristocracy, for they were en- 
titled by their birth to certain privileges. — But this is foreign 
to our purpose. The most distinguishing features of the 
government were the vigilant, the anxious provision made 
for the interests, enjoyments, and festivals of the nation, 
and that enlarged wisdom and profound knowledge of human 
nature which led the inspired founder of the Hebrew com- 
monwealth to exalt and sanctify the pleasures of the people 
by uniting them with religion, while he confirmed and en- 
deared religion by combining it with all the popular gratifi- 
cations. 



CHAPTER III. 



Festivals^ Gamesy and Amusements of the Ancient Greeks. 

" Fas mihi Graiorum sacrata resolvere jura." 

Virg: ^n. 3. 550. 

Who would ever have imagined that the vivacious, intel- 
lectual, and handsome Athenians derived their origin from 
the gloomy, priestridden, negro-faced people of Egypt, a 
colony from which country was conducted to Attica by 



32 FESTIVALS, GAMES, AND AMUSEMENTS 

Cecrops, about the time of Moses ? We know that man- 
ners are changeable, that they receive their character from 
climate, soil, localities, population, religion, form of govern- 
ment, facility of communication with strangers, and various 
collateral circumstances ; but we cannot understand how 
that great physical metamorphosis was accomplished which 
converted an ugly race into the most graceful and finely- 
formed nation upon the face of the earth. Nor have we 
any records on which to hang a conjecture ; for at this 
period, as Plutarch says, when regretting his inability to 
furnish its early history, Attica was " all monstrous and 
tragical land, occupied only by poets and fabulists." Seven 
hundred years after the foundation of Athens, the writings 
of Homer afford many illustrations of manners among the 
Greeks, which still exhibited barbarous traits of defective 
government and unimproved society. From the notion that 
the souls of deceased warriors delighted in human blood, 
the funeral games and ceremonies were of the most cruel 
description. Achilles slew twelve of the young Trojan 
nobility at the pile of Patroclus ; an act of atrocity which 
is of itself sufficient to stamp the character of barbarism 
upon the age in which it occurred. Half-naked savages, 
indeed, with a club and lion's skin, no longer wandered 
about the world, offering their services for the destruction 
of wild beasts ; but the times were characterized by that 
licentiousness, hospitaUty, violence, utter disregard of human 
life, and union of dignified station with mean employments 
to which the manners of the Scottish Highlanders, till 
within a century, retained so marked a resemblance. Such 
will ever be the features of society where the law is ineffectual 
for personal security. " In such cases bodily strength 
and courage must decide most contests ; while on the other 
hand, craft, cunning, and surprise are the legitimate wea 
pons of the weak against the strong. We accordingly 
find that both the ancient and the modem history of the 
East is a continued scene of bloodshed and treachery."* 

In the time of Homer, when murders were so common 
that they scarcely left a stain upon the character of the 
perpetrator, and human sacri^<Jes were still offered to the 
gods, and to the manes of the dead, we cannot expect to 

* Robertson's Cheirles V. 



OF THE ANCIENT GREEKS. 33 

discover any thing refined, still less intellectual, in the 
amusements or recreations. These were grovelling and 
sensual, while the public games, being simply calculated to 
exercise and strengthen the bodily powers, were but personal 
struggles, scarcely amicable in their nature, and evidently 
intended as preparations for war. Several hundred years 
later, when the Athenians had attained their palmiest state, 
both as to power and literary pre-eminence, we have 
abundant materials for appreciating Grecian manners in 
general, which then present to us, so far as amusements are 
concerned, a decided predominance of the intellectual over 
the corporeal, of refinement over vulgar sensuality. Let 
us indulge in an imaginary walk into Athens at this period, 
that we may judge for ourselves, taking our first station on 
the road to Thria, to the north-west of the city. Behold ! 
the sun is now gleaming upon the waters of the Cephisus, 
burnishing the tops of the trees in the garden of the Acad- 
emy, just revealing beyond them the pediment of the 
temple of Theseus, and illuminating one side of the glo- 
rious Parthenon, perched aloft upon the rocky AcropoUs. 
We will stand aside for a moment, not only to avoid the 
dust of the market-people flocking into the city, but that 
we may listen to the ancient ballads they are singing, an 
amusement which implies something of a civiUzed and 
literary taste, even in these rude peasants. They have 
passed, they have crossed the bridge over the Cephisus, and 
we may now follow them, diverging, however, from the 
high road into the shady walks on either side that constitute 
the grove of Academus. It was here that Plato, the pupil 
of Socrates, instructed his disciples, maintaining the immor- 
tality of the soul, while he placed the sovereign felicity in 
studying the beautiful, the true, the good ; in contemplating 
the supreme celestial intelligence, and in endeavouring to 
conciliate his love, by imitating his benevolence, so far as 
human infirmities allowed. 

Such have been the sublime doctrines taught by the 
academicians and philosophers who since his time have de- 
livered lessons of wisdom within these shady precincts ; and 
such are the discourses to which the volatile population of 
Athens have eagerly crowded for amusement and recreation. 
What an immeasurable stride must the public mind have 
taken since the Homeric ages, when all enjoyments had 



34 FESTIVALS, GAMES, AND AMUSEMENTS 

reference to the body and the senses ! but that we may the 
better appreciate the character of the citizens, let us ascend 
this Uttle eminence, and survey the public buildings which, 
exclusively of the religious edifices, are expressly dedicated 
to the pleasures of the mind. See ! we have now reached 
the altar of the Muses, whose votaries may in some degree 
be said to hallow literature with a divine sanction. Yonder 
to the east, near the Marathon road, is the Cynosarges, or 
school of the cynic philosophers ; beyond it is the Lycseum, 
where Aristotle instructed his disciples while he walked 
about and founded the sect of the peripatetic philosophers ; 
near the gate of the Piraeus is the Museum, a building dedi- 
cated to the liberal arts, and to the goddesses whose name 
it bears ; the superb structure to the left of it is the Odeum, 
appropriated to the performance of concerts, to musical 
trials of skill, and to the rehearsal of the theatrical cho- 
ruses ; and the semicircular building on this side of it is the 
Great Theatre, to which the Athenians flock to weep at the 
tragedies of ^schylus, Sophocles, and Euripides, to be 
convulsed with laughter at the farcical satires of Aristoph- 
anes, or to be delighted with the polished wit of the chaste 
and elegant Menander. Is not such a recapitulation suf- 
ficient to prove that in this classic seat of the muses the 
pleasures of the mind have largely triumphed over those of 
the body, and that the inhabitants of Athens are the most 
intellectual people whom the world has yet produced, or 
whom it is perhaps hereafter destined to see, even in a much 
more advanced state of its existence 1 

That all their diversions are of this exalted character it 
would be too much to expect ; but we will pursue our walk, 
and make our observations as we proceed. Here we are at 
the gate Dipylon, in the shade of which some idlers of the 
lower class are reclining, while they play at dice upon the 
pavement, and by their animated gestures and the anxious 
expression of their countenances are evidently contending 
for a stake of some importance. Strange ! that the love of 
deep play should be equally found among the most savage 
and the most civilized people, as if gambling were an inher- 
ent propensity of human nature ! So addicted to dice were 
the Germans and other barbarians of the north, that, accord-, 
ing to Tacitus, after having lost every thing else, they would 
frequently stake their freedom upon the hazard of a die, and 



OF THE ANCIENT GREEKS* 33 

be sold into perpetual slavery without a murmur or an 
attempt to escape. Every throw of these Athenians, as 
you may gather from their exclamations, has the name of 
some god, prince, or hero, the most favourable of all being 
called Venus. The gamblers on the other side of the gate, 
engaged at a different game, employ only three dice, which. 
they throw through a hollow cylinder upon a checker-board, 
in order to prevent cheating. These are games of pure 
chance ; but yonder is a party playing at a table marked 
with lines and pyramidal points, on which are ranged pieces 
or men of different colours, the skill of the combatant being 
shown by sustaining his own men, and capturing or block- 
ing up those of his adversary. Sometimes this game is 
played with dice, the movements being regulated by the 
number thrown, but still so as to leave room for much 
judgment and intricate combination on the part of the 
player.* 

Here we are in the crowded forum, the centre of which 
is still occupied with the market people and others of the 
lower class, whose satirical pleasantries with one another 
and gibing raillery upon the passengers, though not always 
refined, are never deficient in the drollery and facetiousness 
that characterize while they form the constant amusement 
of the Athenian populace. These porticoes and colonnades 
will presently be thronged with loungers, newsmongers, 
and philosophers, each seeking their appropriate recreation, 
and indulging in eager discourse adapted to the different 
tastes of the colloquists ; for among the lively Athenians 
even the stoics are social and loquacious, and lonely medi- 
tation is but little practised. The crowd flocking down 
this street to the left are hastening to the gymnasium, and 
those pursuing the direction of the river are hurrying to the 
baths, the use of which is considered so indispensable, that 
they are not only found in most of the private houses, but 
have even been introduced on board ship. 

This stream of passengers on foot and on horseback, this 
throng of carters, water-carriers, criers of edicts, labourers, 
and beggars with their dancing dogs, pushing in all direc- 
tions with an ardour that will not allow of ceremony, begins 

* The former game is presumed to have borne some resemblance to 
chess, and the latter to backgammon. 



36 FESTIVALS, GAMES, AND AMUSEMENTS 

to be irksome ; we will therefore withdraw under this 
colonnade, where we may enjoy the scene without beinor 
incommoded by its bustle. Some of the higher classes ar© 
now beginning to appear, as you may perceive by the cha- 
riots and gaily-adorned litters, few of which are suffered to 
pass without taunts or jeering remarks from the poorer citi- 
zens. Many of the former are followed by a servant carry- 
ing a folding chair, that their masters may sit down when 
fatigued. Most of the men, you will observe, are provided 
with a cane, and the women with a parasol, but no external 
mark of wealth or station can exempt them from the raillery 
of their bantering fellow-countrymen. Such is the mania, 
even among the educated classes, for this species of recrea- 
tion, that there is a society at Athens " whose only object is 
to observe and collect every species of ridiculous absurdity, 
and to divert itself with pleasantries and hon-mots. The 
members of it, to the number of sixty, are all men of ex- 
traordinary vivacity and brilliant wit : their meetings are 
held from time to time in the temple of Hercules, where 
they pronounce their humorous decrees in presence of a 
crowd of spectators, drawn thither by the singularity of the 
scene ; nor have the misfortunes of the state ever induced 
them to intermit their meetings."* 

Materials for the satire and the raillery of such a society 
can never be wanting in a city like Athens. Look ! there 
are two individuals approaching us, who, though they are 
as dissimilar as possible in their appearance, are both equally 
calculated to excite and justify the ridicule of these pro- 
fessed wags. One of them, a smooth-shaven fop, who in 
his affectation of attic elegance is dressed in the extremity 
of the fashion, loads the air with perfume as he picks his 
way along the colonnade, simpering to display his white 
teeth, arranging the flowers at his ears, dangling his twisted 
cane, and occasionally looking down with an air of com- 
placency at his Alcibiades shoes. The other, affecting the 
laconomania or the rough manners of the Spartans, wears 
a coarse cloak and plain sandals ; his long beard is un-. 
trimmed, his hair falls in disorder about his shoulders, he 
carries a huge staff in his hand, and walks with a severe, 
solemn gait. The singularities of the former excite only a 

* Travels of Anacharsis, vol.ii. cap 20. 



OF THE ANCIENT GREEKS, 37 

smile or a sneer from the b5rstanders, but some of them 
seem disposed to treat the pretended simplicity of the latter 
as an insult to the national manners, at least if we may- 
judge by the bitter sarcasms with which they pursue him.* 
We have recorded the number of holy days kept by the 
Jews, which occupied a quarter of the year. Those ob- 
served by the lively pkasure-ioving Athenians were still 
more numerous, upwards of eighty days being regularly de- 
voted to public spectacles ; none of which, it must be recol- 
lected, shared the character of the Jewish Sabbath, but were 
literally and throughout festive merrimaklngs. Exclu- 
sively of these local holydays and sports, there were the four 
great national festivals of the Olympian, Pythian, Isthmian, 
and Nemean games, each of which la^sted several days ; 
and all of which, from the narrow dimensions of the 
Grecian territory and the universal truce observed during 
their celebration, were accessible to all classes even in the 
midst of war. Nor were private entertainments of rare 
occurrence ; for the birth of children, their enrolment as 
citizens, their first exhibition in the gymnasium, and nume- 
rous other occasions were also celebrated as festivals. In 
the Athenian calendar we find an abstract of all the glorious 
events by which their city has been distinguished ; nor 
could a better method have been devised for attaching the 
people to the religion and the government, than by per- 
petuating the memory of these occurrences in the public 
solemnities. Some were celebrated with such magnificence 
that three hundred oxen were led to the altars at once amid 
every circumstance of sacrificial pomp. The earliest fes- 
tivals of the Greeks, and indeed of all nations, were kept in 
the autumn, after gathering in the fruits of the earth, when 
gratitude prompted tbem to offer up sacrifices to heaven, 
and social festivities were the natural consequences of 
plenty. Ceres and Bacchus were therefore the chief primal 
divinities : spring and summer soon claimed their appro- 
priate representatives and celebrations ; and human heroes 
and benefactors next received the honours of the apotheosis, 
none of whom, probably, conferred such blessings on man- 
kind by their living exploits, which could only affect a single 
age, as by their laying the foundation of a public fes' ^-^al to V» 

* Travels of Ailacharsis, vol. ii. cap. SO, 
D 



38 FESTIVALS, GAMES, AND AMUSEMENTS 

enjoyed by long succeeding generations of a whole people. 
In the mode of celebrating these holydays at the politer age 
of Athens, there will be found a large admixture of the most 
refined mental enjoyments with the rude corporeal sports 
that characterized the Homeric era. The shows consisted 
of sacrifices which inspired reverence by the pomp of their 
solemnization ; processions calculated to display the charms 
of the youth of both sexes ; musical theatrical pieces, the 
productions of the finest geniuses of Greece ; dances, songs, 
and combats, in which strength, skill, and talent were by 
turns exhibited. The persons of all the actors were invio- 
lable during the festival, nor could any individual be arrested 
for debt at this period of general amusement and happiness. 

In the constitution of the scenic representations, of 
which the chorus formed so remarkable a portion, the intel- 
lectual may be said to predominate ; while the ancient fes- 
tivals addressed themselves more especially to the eyes and 
the senses. Each of the ten tribes furnished a chorus, and 
a choragus, or leader, who was ineligible under forty years 
of age, and with whom rested the choice of the performers, 
generally selected from the class of children or of youths. 
An excellent player on the flute to direct their voices and 
an able master to regulate their steps and gestures were 
indispensable. As victory might depend on the superior 
skill of these teachers, they were publicly drawn for by lot, 
and generally proceeded to exercise their pupils some 
months previous to the festival. The choragus, whose 
functions were not only consecrated b)'^ religion, but enno- 
bled by the example of the most eminent men of the state, 
who had deemed it an honour to fill that expensive office, 
appeared at the festival as well as his followers with a gilt 
crown and a magnificent robe. Each tribe was anxious to 
engage the most celebrated poet to compose the sacred 
hymns, the success of which depended upon the sentiments 
and style more than upon the accompanying music. 

It was the province of the chorus to appear in the pomps 
or processions, to range themselves round the altars, to 
sing hymns during the sacrifice, and to assist in the theatri- 
cal representations, where they exerted themselves with the 
utmost ardour to maintain the reputation of their respective 
tribes. " The people, almost as jealous of their pleasures 
as of their liberty, waited the decision of the contest with 



OF THE ANCIENT GREEKS. 39 

tlis same anxiety, the same tumult, as if their most im- 
pcTtant interests were the subject of discussion. The glory 
resulting from the victory was shared between the triumph- 
ant chorus, the tribe to which it belonged, and the masters 
who gave the preparatory lessons."* 

The festival of the Panathensea, instituted in the earliest 
ages in honour of Minerva, and revived by Theseus, had 
received so many additions since its first establishment, 
that it finally assumed a mixed character in which the in- 
tellectual and corporeal competitors were pretty equally 
balanced. As this was one of the most important of the 
public festivals of Athens, we shall give an outline of the 
mode in which it was celebrated, reminding the reader that 
it occurred in the first month, which began at the summer 
solstice ; the greater Panathensea being quinquennial, and 
the smaller annual. Upon these occasions every Athenian 
city and colony sent the tribute of an ox to Minerva, the 
goddess having the honour of the hecatomb, and the people 
the profit, for the flesh of the victims served to regale the 
spectators. We may trace the progress of public taste in 
the successive modifications and additions made to these 
sports. The first contest, which took place at night, and 
in which the athletae carried flambeaux, was originally a 
foot-race, subsequently converted into an equestrian course ; 
the second, a gymnastic contest, was held for some centu- 
ries in a rude stadium constructed by Lycurgus, the Rhsetor, 
but magnificently rebuilt at a later period by the celebrated 
Herodes Atticus ; the third exhibition, instituted by Pericles, 
was destined to poetry and music. 

All the people of Attica, as the name of the festival 
imports, being expected to assist in its celebration, were to 
be seen at the period of its occurrence, wearing a chaplet 
of flowers, crowding to the capital with their victims. The 
sports began in. the morning by horse-races on the banks 
of the Ihssus, in which the sons of the most distinguished 
citizens contended for the victory. Next came the wrestling 
and gymnastic exercises, in the stadium, succeeded by the 
gentler and less perilous competitions in the odeum, where 
the most exquisite musicians executed rival pieces on the 
flute, or cithara, while others sang, and accompanied their 

* Anacharsis, vol. ii. cap. M. 



40 FESTIVALS, GAMES, AND AmrSEMENTS* 

voices with instrumental music. The subject prescribed to 
them was the eulogy of Harmodius, Aristogeiton, and 
Thrasybulus, who had rescued the repubhc from the yoke 
of tyranny ; for among the Athenians these institutions 
served to commemorate the patriots wlio had benefited 
their country, as well as to excite the spectators to an imi- 
tation of their virtues. Poets also contended for the theat- 
rical prize, each being allowed to produce four pieces : the 
prize, in this instance, was an olive crown, and a vessel of 
the finest oil, which the victors, by a special privilege, 
might export whithersoever they pleased beyond the Athe- 
nian territory. Crowns were afterward conferred on other 
individuals, who appeared to the people to have merited 
that mark of honour. 

The procession to the temple of the Pythian Apollo, 
which formed part of the ceremony, was composed of dif- 
ferent classes of citizens, crowned with garlands, among 
whom were seen old men of a majestic and venerable ap- 
pearance, bearing branches of olive ; others of middle age, 
armed with lances and bucklers as if ready to engage in 
war ; youths, from eighteen to twenty, who sang hymns in 
honour of the goddess Minerva ; beautiful boys, clad in a 
simple tunic ; and lastly girls selected from the first families 
in Athens, and attracting every eye by their features, 
shape, and deportment. With their hands they held baskets 
on their heads, which, under a rich veil, contained sacred 
utensils, cakes, and every thing necessary for the sacrifices : 
they were attended by females, holding over them an um- 
brella with one hand, and carrying a folding chair in the 
other, a species of servitude imposed on the daughters of 
all foreigners settled at Athens. Next followed musicians, 
playing on the flute and the lyre ; rhapsodists, singing the 
poems of Homer ; and armed dancers, who in their occa- 
sional attacks upon each other represented, to the sound of 
the flute, the battle of Minerva with the Titans. 

But the most attractive part of the spectacle was a 
stately ship, impelled by concealed machinery, though it 
appeared to glide over the ground by the power of the wind 
and the efforts of numerous rowers. On its sail, which 
represented the peplus or white sleeveless robe of Minerva, 
the inventress of the useful art of spinning, were em- 
broidered not only the memorable actions of that goddess. 



ANCIENT GREEK AND ROMAN DRAMA. 41 

but those of Jupiter, and of the Athenian heroes and 
patriots. This procession, attended by the magistrates and 
a numerous suite, all bearing olive-branches, advanced with 
solemn steps through an immense crowd, mostly placed on 
scaffolds erected for the occasion, or thronging the terraced 
roofs of the houses, to the temple of the Pythian Apollo, 
where the sail was taken down and deposited in the citadel. 

At night there was a torch-race of nimble-footed young 
men, stationed at equal distances, the first of whom, on a 
signal given by the shout of the multitude, lighted his 
flambeau at the altar of Prometheus, and running with it 
handed it to the second, who transmitted it in the same 
manner to the third, and so on in succession. He who 
suffered it to be extinguished was excluded from the lists, 
and they who slackened in their pace were exposed to the 
railleries and even blows of the populace. None could 
gain the prize without having passed through all the sta- 
tions with success.* 

The candidates who had been crowned, together with 
their friends, partook of sumptuous repasts which lasted all 
night ; while the people, among whom the unmolated vic- 
tims were distributed, spread tables on every side, and gave 
a loose to their lively and tumultuous mirth.f 



CHAPTER IV. 

Ancient Greek and Roman Drama. 

« Haec de comcedis te consulit ; ilia tragcedum." 

Juven. &, . 

In the festivals and sports of which we have thus at- 
tempted a brief outline, originated the drama ; too promi- 
nent in the list of Grecian amusements to be passed over 
unnoticed, although we are compelled to treat it in a cur- 

* Which was probably an arduous task, for Aristophanes, in " The 
Frogs," taunting the Athenians with their effeminacy, says, that few 
were left who had sufficient strength to run in the torcb-race. 

t Anacharsis, cap. 24. 

D2 



42 ANCIENT GREEK AND 

sory etnd supei-ficial manner, as it is our purpose to give a 
fuller history of the theatre in connexion with the more 
interesting subject of the English stage. The performers 
in the different Grecian games being compelled by law to 
represent the life and exploits of the deity or hero in whose 
honour they were instituted, had already laid the basis of 
the drama, long before Thespis, improving upon the hint 
thus afforded, conceived the idea of introducing other actors 
to relieve the chorus, and render the progress of the story 
more intelligible and vivid. This founder of the stage, 
who flourished about 536 years before Christ, took for his 
subjects the historical traditions of Greece, which he em- 
bellished by appropriate fictions, an innovation highly dis^ 
pleasing to Solon the legislator of Athens. " If we applaud 
falsehood in our public exhibitions," said he to Thespis, 
*« we shall soon find that it will insinuate itself into our 
most sacred engagements." ^schylus, Sophocles, and 
Euripides not only increased the number of characters, 
one of which became the hero of the piece, but perfected 
the dresses and scenic illusions, banished murders from 
the stage, and restricted the functions of the chorus, which 
now only occupied a subordinate station. The first of 
these writers has be^n censured for having admitted mute 
characters into his drama. " Achilles after the death of 
his friend, and Niobe after the destruction of her children, 
appear an the stage, and remain during several scenes mo- 
tionless, their heads cavered with a veil and without uttering 
a word ; but if their eyes had overflown with tears, and 
they had poured forth the bitterest lamentations, could they 
have produced an effect so terrible as this veil, this silence, 
and this abandonment to grief?"* 

Lending himself to the popular belief that the ancient 
heroes had a more lofty and majestic stature than ordinary 
mortals, ^schylus raised his actors on high stilts or buskins, 
covering their features with a mask suitable to the charac- 
ters they performed, and clothing them in flowing and mag- 
nificent robes. The inferior actors were also provided with 
appropriate masks and dresses. He obtained a handsome 
theatre, furnished with machines and embellished with 
decorations^ " Here the sound of the trumpet was rever 

* Anacharsis, cap. 69 



ROMAN DRAMA. 43 

berated, incense was seen to bum on the altars, the shades 
of the dead to arise from the tomb, and the fiends to rush 
from the gulf of Tartarus. In one of his pieces these 
infernal divinities appeared for the first time with masks of 
a horrid paleness, torches in their hands, serpents entwined 
in their hairs, and followed by a numerous retinue of 
dreadful spectres. It is said that at the sight of them, and 
the sound of their terrific bowlings, terror seized on the 
whole assembly, women miscarried, and children expired 
with fear, and that the magistrates, to prevent similar acci- 
dents in future, commanded that the chorus should consist 
only of fifteen actors instead of fifty." 

"By reducing heroism to its just standard, Sophocles 
lowered the style of tragedy, and banished those expres 
sions which a wild imagination had dictated to ^schylus, 
and which diffused terror through the souls of the spec- 
tators, ^schylus painted men greater than they can be, 
Sophocles as they ought to be, and Euripides as they are. 
By forcibly insisting on the important doctrines of morality, 
the latter was placed among the number of the sages, and 
will for ever be regarded as the philosopher of the stage."* 

Modem writers may well be astonishied at the great fer- 
tility of these ancient dramatists, especially as they were 
contemporaries, or nearly so. Although we only possess 
seven of the tragedies of ^schylus, he wrote ninety, of 
which forty were rewarded with the public prize. Of the 
one hundred and twenty composed by his pupil Sophocles, 
seven only have come down to us ; and nineteen are extant 
of the seventy-five ascribed to Euripides. None of their 
successors ever attained the talent or rivalled the fame of 
these three illustrious fathers of tragedy. 

The comedy of the same era, as conducted by Aristoph- 
anes and his contemporaries, was infinitely below our 
modern farces, and indeed hardly upon a par with our an 
cient mysteries and moralities, abounding as it did in vulgar 
indecent reflections and illiberal satire, and employing by 
turns parody, allegorical images, buffoonery, and travesties, 
in which the gods and heroes were rendered ridiculous by 
the contrast between their mean disguise and their real dig- 
nity. It appears as if the Athenians were jealous of their 

* inacharsiSt cap. 69 



44 ANCIENT GREEK AND 

deities in proportion to their contemptible character and 
utter worthlessness ; for though they resented with a fierce 
intolerance any real or imaginary affront directed against 
them in the form of serious argument, they delighted in 
seeing them lampooned and burlesqued, indulging in immode- 
rate laughter when the irreverent farces that bore the names 
of Bacchus and Hercules exposed the excessive poltroonery 
of the former, and the enormous voracity of the latter. To 
pander to the taste of the vulgar, the most celebrated au- 
thors sometimes furnished their actors with indecorous 
dresses and expressions, and sometimes put into their 
mouths virulent invectives against individuals, not only 
mentioning their names, but imitating their features on the 
actor's mask. Thus were Euripides, Socrates, and others 
persecuted by Aristophanes, the same audiences crowrning 
the tragedies of the former, and the farcical burlesques into 
wlbich they were turned by the latter. 

Attempts were made to repress these gross abuses of the 
stage by various decrees, which, however, being found in- 
consistent with the nature of the government, or the genius 
of the people, were either forgotten or repealed ; until at 
iength a new enactment permitted persons attacked or ridi- 
culed by the dramatists to prosecute them in a court of 
justice. By this measure, and some examples of its severe 
enforcement, the licentiousness of the stage was effectually 
checked, and the reform thus accomplished gradually ex- 
tended itself to the accompaniments and composition of the 
drama, the extravagance of which had been unbounded. 
Fantastical and preposterous subjects no longer brought on 
the stage choruses of birds, wasps, frogs, and other ani- 
mals, habited in a grotesque resemblance to the forms of 
these animals, and even attempting to imitate their inar- 
ticulate noises.* Human nature became a greater object 

• As a sample of this extravaganza, we subjoin a translation of the 
opening chant of the chorus of frogs, in Aristophanes's comedy of that 
name. 

Chorits. 
" Brekeke-kesh— Koash ! Koash ! 
Shall the choral choristers of the marsh 
Be censur'd and rejected as hoarse and harsh, 
And their chromatic essays depriv'd of praise ? 
No, let us raise afresh 
Our obstreperous Brekeke-kesh ; 



ROMAN DRAMA. 45 

of study, grossness and buffoonery were banished, as well 
as licentious personalities, and comedy continued to im- 
prove until it attained its highest degree of excellence under 
Menander, who flourished about 300 years before Christ, 
and by his chaste elegance, refined wit, and admirable 
judgment, received the appellation of prmce of the new 
comedy. 

In order that the reader may form some idea of the man- 
ner in which these pieces were represented, it must be 
recollected that the Grecian theatres, although not alto- 
gether dissimilar in form from a modern circus, were of 
much larger dimensions, and without any roof. During the 
performance no person was allowed to occupy that portion 
of <^hp building correspondent to our pit, experience having 
shown that the voices of the actors could not be distinctly 
heard unless this space were entirely empty. The prosce- 
nium or stage was divided into two parts or terraces ; the 
higher one being appropriated to the actors, and the lower 
one, which was ten or twelve feet above the pit, to the 
chorus, who could thus easily turn either towards the per- 
formers or the audience. At a later period the Roman 
theatres were provided with immense awnings, which drew 
over the greater portion of the top, so as to exclude the sun 
or rain ; an improvement that seems to have been unknown 
to the Athenians, for we are told that in case of a sudden 
shower the spectators were obliged to take refuge in the 
adjacent porticoes and public buildings. Gratuitous repre- 
sentations always formed a part of the festivals ; and it 
was during the celebration of the great Dionysia, which 
lasted several days, that the pieces intended for competition 
were brought forward. In these contests the victory was 
not easily achieved. Exclusively of one of the entertain- 
ments called Satyrs, an author opposed his antagonist with 
three tragedies, which may in some degree account for the 
great number written by the more eminent tragedians. 
The duration of these pieces was, however, limited by the 
clepsydra, or water-clock. Sophocles was the first who 



The customary croak and cry 
Of the creatures at the theatres, 
In their yearjy revelry — 
Brekeke-kesh— Koash ! Koash !" 



46 ANCIENT GREEK AND 

adventured to produce only a single tragedy, an innovation 
which became insensibly established. Beginning early in 
the morning the performance sometimes lasted the whole 
day, during which five or six dramas might be performed. 
Previously to their representation, all pieces were submitted 
to the principal archon, with whom rested the power of 
acceptance or rejection, and whose favour was accordingly 
courted by authors with great assiduity ; the fortunate 
ones lauding his discrimination, while those whose pieces 
were rejected not unfrequently consoled themselves by 
making him the subject of their lampoons and epigrams. 
Athenian petulance, aggravated by disappointment, would 
naturally impart to these a peculiarly caustic character. 

The crown, however, was neither bestowed by the archon 
nor by the tumultuous applauses of the assembly, but by 
judges drawn by lot, and engaged by oath to decide im- 
partially ; an honourable mode of awarding the palm, which 
can only be bestowed where audiences are gratuitously ad- 
mitted, and authors desire no higher recompense than a 
laurel wreath. Besides the victor, the names of the two 
next in merit were proclaimed, while he himself, loaded 
with the applauses which the chorus had solicited for him 
at the conclusion of the piece, was frequently escorted 
home by some of the spectators, and usually gave an en- 
tertainment to his friends. As the superiority of the pieces 
written by ^schylus, Sophocles, and Euripides became 
established in the course of time, it was ordered that accu- 
rate copies of them should be preserved in some place of 
safety, that they should be annually recited in public, and 
that statues should be erected to their authors. 

During the performance, the stage was never empty. 
Sometimes the chorus made its entry in the first scene ; if 
later, it was introduced naturally, and it was necessary to 
assign a reason for its leaving the stage, however short the 
time of its disappearance. The division of a piece, and 
its distribution into interludes, during which the choral 
performers were considered as alone, and sang together, 
was entirely arbitrary. The chorus, which was usually 
understood to represent the people, and consisted latterly 
of fifteen in tragedy, and twenty- four in comedy, was com- 
posed of men and women, old and young, citizens or slaves, 
priests, soldiers,..or others, according to the nature of the 



ROMAN DRAMA. 47 

piece. As they came upon the stage, their steps were 
regulated by a flute-player ; in tragedy they generally ad- 
vanced three in front and five deep, or five in front and three 
deep ; in comedy they were usually arranged four in front 
and six deep, or the reverse. In the interludes they sang 
in parts, marching and countennarching, and performing 
different evolutions to the sound of the flute. 

To acquire greater vigour and suppleness, for some of 
the parts, such as that of Ajax frantic, required extraordi- 
nary bodily powers, the actors occasionally exercised with 
the youthful athletae ; while others observed a strict regi- 
men, that their voices might become more flexible and sono- 
rous. Their pay must have been considerable, as it is 
recorded of one named Polus, that in two days he gained a 
talent, about 225Z. sterling. Nor were their emoluments 
confined to a single city, for when they had acquired dis- 
tinction on the iVthenian stage, they were solicited by other 
states to contribute to the embellishment of their festivals. 
In singing, the voice of the performers was guided by a 
flute, and in declamation by a lyre, which prevented it from 
sinking and preserved a proper intonation, leaving the actor 
at liberty to accelerate or retard his delivery as he thought fit. 

Two kinds of regulated dances formed an accompaniment 
of the ancient drama, one executed by the choral performers 
when some happy tidings compelled them to yield to the 
transports of their joy ; the other appropriated to tragedy, 
and intended to represent actions, manners, and sentiments 
by different movements and iaflections of the body. Where 
it was so difficult, from the largeness of the theatre, to be 
universally heard, it became necessary to have recourse to 
that language of nature which influences the passions by 
appealing to the eye ; the Greeks, therefore, neglected 
nothing which might contribute to the perfection of theatrical 
dancing, or give effect to poetry and music by correspondent 
action. In the tragic dances all was dignified, noble, ele- 
gant, and in exquisite accordance with the music as well 
as the attitudes of the actor. Those of comedy, more free 
and familiar in their nature, were at one time disgraced by 
a licentiousness so gross that even Aristophanes made a 
merit of banishing them from his pieces. 

The spectators usually expressed their disapprobation of 
an actor, first by low murmurs, then by loud laughter, 



48 ANCIENT GREEK AND 

tumultuous exclamations, and violent hissings, stamping 
with their feet to oblige him to quit the stage, making him 
take off his mask that they might triumph in his shame, 
ordering the herald to call another performer, and sometimes 
even demanding that a disgraceful punishment should be 
inflicted on the unfortunate object of their dislike. So far, 
however, from any absurd stigma being attached to the pro- 
fession, no one could be a member of it who had been dis- 
honoured by any offence committed against the laws. En- 
joying all the privileges of a free citizen, an actor might 
aspire to the most honourjible employments of the state. 
Some possessed great influence in the public assemblies ; a 
celebrated performer, named Aristodemus, was sent on 
an embassy to Philip, King of Macedon; and ^schylus, 
Sophocles, and Aristophanes, like our own Shakspeare, 
held it no degradation to act a part in the pieces they had 
composed. Extraordinary expedients were sometimes used 
by the actors to excite their own feelings, and awaken the 
sympathies of the audience. In one of the tragedies of 
Sophocles the princess Electra embraces the urn which she 
imagines to contain the ashes of her brother Orestes. Po- 
ius, the Athenian, in enacting the part of Electra, for there 
were no female performers, caused the urn containing the 
remains of a son whom he had lately lost to be brought 
from his tomb, and when it was presented to him upon the 
stage, *' he seized it with a trembling hand, and taking it in 
his arms, pressed it to his heart, uttering accents of such 
lively grief, so moving, and so fearfully expressive, that the 
whole theatre resounded with exclamations ; and the spec- 
tators shed torrents of tears in commiseration of the un- 
happy fate of the son, and the wretched condition of the 
father."* 

From the necessity of rendering the drama as intelligible 
as possible by visible signs, the age, rank, sex, and condi- 
tion of every performer was generally indicated by his 
dress. Those suffering under misfortunes wore black, 
brown, or dirty white garments which frequently hung in 
tatters ; and in all cases the disguise was assisted by a 
painted mask, which, covering the whole head like a hel* 
met, substituted an artificial visage, provided with diiFerent- 

* Anacharsis, cap. 70. 



KOMAN DRAMA. 49 

coloured hair or beards, or representing the charms of youth 
and beauty ; the enormous mouth being sometimes lined 
■with sonorous substances to assist the power of the voice. 
An individual portrait of a deity or a hero might be sug- 
gested by this clumsy contrivance, but the play of passion 
upon the countenance of the performer was necessarily 
sacrificed, while the expression of the visor itself, although 
it might portray the predominant feeling of the character, 
and might be changed with every scene, must sometimes have 
been at direct variance with the sentiments uttered. The 
voice, too, could no longer preserve its natural modulation, 
its intonations were abrupt and harsh, the laugh lost its 
effect, and nothing can be conceived more ridiculous to be- 
hold, more destructive of all sympathy between the audi- 
ence and the actor, than the sight of a hideous mouth, mo- 
tionless while the performer was speaking, and continually 
gaping when he was silent. Such were the defects insepa- 
rable from the colossal size of the theatres. It must be 
recollected, however, that as the female characters were 
performed by men, this contrivance assisted the illusion ; 
and that in pieces similar to the Menaechmi of Plautus, 
whence Shakspeare's Comedy of Errors is taken, in which 
the plot turns on the mistake of one person for another, 
the use of masks would give a greater air of probability to 
the incidents. 

When the performances were concluded, different bodies 
of magistrates ascended the stage, and made libations on 
an altar consecrated to Bacchus, thus elevating the the- 
atrical entertainments by impressing upon them a character 
of sanctity. As the rules of perspective became better un- 
derstood, the scenery seems to have attained a considerable 
degree of perfection, although in tragedy the action was 
usually supposed to pass in the vestibule of a palace or a 
temple, and did not require many changes. The opening 
display was soinetimes very beautiful and grand. " Aged 
men, women, and children are beheld prostrate near an 
altar imploring the protection of the gods and the aid of 
their sovereign. Youthful princes arrive in a hunting-dress, 
and surrounded by their friends and their dogs, sing hymn? 
in honour of Diana ; or a chariot appears, which brings in 
solemn pomp to the camp of the Greeks Clytemnestra, 
attended by her slaves, and holding the infant Orestes 
E 



50 ANCIENT GREEK AND 

sleeping in her arms. Here Ulysses and Diomede enter by 
night the Trojan camp, through which they quickly spread 
alarm, the sentinels running together from all sides, crying 
Stof ! stop ! kill ! kill ! There the Grecian soldiers, after 
the taking of Troy, appear on the roofs of the houses, and 
begin to reduce that celebrated city to ashes. At another 
time coffins are brought, containing the bodies of the chiefs 
who fell at the siege of Thebes ; their funerals are cele- 
brated on the stage, and their widows express their grief in 
mournful songs. One of them, named Evadne, is seen on 
the top of a rock, at the foot of which is erected the funeral 
pile of Capaneus, her husband. She is habited in her richest 
ornaments ; and, deaf to the entreaties of her father and the 
cries of her companions, precipitates herself into the de- 
vouring flames." 

" The marvellous also adds to the charm of the exhi- 
bition. Some god descends in dramatic machinery ; the 
shade of Polydorus bursts from the bosom of the earth ; 
the ghost of Achilles appears to the assembly of the Greeks, 
and commands them to sacrifice the daughter of Priam ; 
Helen ascends to the vault of heaven, where she is trans- 
formed into a constellation ; or Medea traverses the air in a 
car drawn by dragons."* 

Theatrical thunder was produced by causing stones to 
fall from a great height into a brazen vessel ; and machines 
were constructed which not only served for efl^ecting flights 
through the air, the descent of deities, or the apparition of 
ghosts, but by turning on rollers presented to the spectators 
the inside of a house or tent. We have said, during the fes- 
tivals the exhibitions were gratuitous, which was virtually, 
though not literally, the case. An obolus, equal to about 
three halfpence of our money, was demanded at the doors ; 
but Pericles, finding probably that the Athenian populace, 
like that of Rome, required little more than bread and 
the public shows, caused a decree to be passed, by which it 
was enacted that the magistrates, before every dramatic 
performance, should distribute to each of the prtorer citizens 
two oboli ; one to pay for his place, and another to assist in 
the supply of his wants during the festival. This soon 

* Seethe seventieth chapter of Anacharsis, from which these observa 
tions on the Greek stage have been mostly abridged. 



ROMAN DRAMA. 51 

degenerated into an enormous abuse, the revenues of the 
state being appropriated to the pleasures of the multitude : 
nor could so popular a misapplication of the public money- 
be subsequently rectified ; for when one of the orators pro- 
posed to repeal the law of Pericles, the general assembly- 
passed a decree forbidding any further mention of the sub- 
ject under pain of death. 

As the Roman theatre bore a close resemblance to that 
of the Greeks, from which indeed it was chiefly borrowed, 
it will require but little notice. In some respects the 
Romans differed from their prototypes. The profession of 
an actor was not only declared infamous, but those who 
practised it were deprived of the rights of citizens ; yet the 
histrionic art must have been held in high estimation, for 
the celebrated tragedian, ^sop, after a life of unbounded 
profusion, left at his death a sum equivalent to 160,000Z. ; 
and other performers were equally prosperous. Such was 
their influence, too, with the public, that every eminent 
actor had his party ; and their absurd factions engendered 
so many brawls and riots, not unfrequently terminating in 
bloodshed, that in the reign of Tiberius the players were 
banished from Italy altogether. From this blow the regular 
drama never recovered ; but the dancers and buffoons 
gradually returned to and usurped the stage, of which they 
thenceforward kept undisputed possession. 

Authors, on the other hand, appear to have been very 
indifferently remunerated ; the largest sum ever paid for 
any dramatic work having been given to Terence for one 
of his most esteemed comedies, and this did not exceed 
501. of our currency. At first the Roman comedy was 
wholly borrowed from the Greeks, and when they ventured 
upon original composition, they soon lost in purity of taste 
more than they gained in originality ; for after the fall of 
the republic the stage degenerated until it was finally aban- 
doned, as we have just stated, to dancers and buffoons. 
Their tragedy was of late introduction, and the remains 
that have come down to our times are too scanty to allow 
us to pronounce upon their general merit. 

After the play amateurs usuo,lly perfonned a farce, termed 
an Atellane comedy, wherein the actors composed an extem- 
poraneous dialogue, which often degenerated into gross 
ribaldry. These performers could not be compelled by the 



52 ANCIENT GREEK AND ROMAN DRAMA. 

audience to unmask, nor were they, like other actors, de- 
prived of their civil rights. Between the acts were gene- 
rally introduced interludes of tumbling, rope-dancing, and 
pantomimical representations, which, as the public taste 
declined, eventually superseded the regular drama. It is 
recorded that the emperor Galba possessed an elephant 
which walked upon a rope stretched across the theatre ; 
and there is reason to suppose that similar exhibitions 
formed part of the amusements. 

A singular custom prevailed upon the Roman stage, the 
occasional division of the same part between two actors, the 
one reciting while the other accompanied him with appro- 
priate gestures. It is conjectured to have originated from 
the necessity of sparing some particular performer, ren- 
dered hoarse by reiterated repetitions of favourite passages ; 
but it does not appear that this anomalous practice was 
ever extended to dialogue. 

The sock or low-heeled shoe of the comedians merely 
covered the foot ; the high buskin of the tragedians reached 
to the mid-leg ; whence these words were used to denote 
the different styles of comedy and tragedy. Pantomime 
actors usually performed barefooted, though on some occa- 
sions they wore wooden sandals. Professed dancers used 
castanets, playing them in unison with the music, as still 
practised in many parts of the continent. It appears that 
the chief female dancers were Spaniards of the province of 
Andalusia, and that their mode of exhibition was then as 
remarkable as now for its voluptuousness. Hence it has 
been conjectured that the same fandango and bolero which 
charms the present audiences of Madrid once delighted the 
inhabitants of ancient Rome. 



PUBLIC GAMES OF THE GRECIANS. 53 



CHAPTER V. 

Public Games of the Grecians. 

" Digredimur, lentaque fori pugnamus arena." 

Juv. 16. 47. 

There seems to have been sometliing nationally charac- 
f;eristic in the ancient notations of time. The devout Jews, 
referring all things to the Deity, reckoned from the creation 
of the world; the Egyptians, Persians, and other enslaved 
nations counted by dynasties and the succession of kings ; 
the patriotic Romans commenced their chronology with the 
foundation of their city and the consular government ; the 
ancient Argives reckoned by the succession of the priestesses 
of Juno, their patron goddess ; but the Greeks, in general a 
vivacious, pleasure-loving people, began at a very early 
period to mark their time either by the recurrence of their 
local festivals, or by the periodical returns of the great 
national jubilee, when the Olympic games were celebrated, 
held after the completion of every fourth year. These 
games, which in the midst of war were not only signals for 
a general truce, but for a fraternal conjaiingling of the 
fiercest enemies in the common enjoyment of sports, pas- 
times, and festivity, must have had a most healing and 
humanizing effect upon the whole Grecian people ; while 
they enlivened their chronology with pleasant remembrance 
of the past, and joyous anticipations of the future. They 
who reflect how deeply the love of pleasure, more especially 
of public spectacles, was implanted in the mind of the 
Greeks, and how much more vivid is the hope of future 
than even the possession of present enjoyment, will duly 
appreciate the great political wisdom of instituting these 
national festivals, and v/\\\ not lightly estimate the degree 
of happiness which the anticipation of their recurrence was 
capable of diffusing throughout the whole of Greece. 

Exclusively of the local festivals, some of which we have 

already briefly noticed, there were public games in difterent 

parts of Greece, which, being open to the participation of 

every inhabitant of the country, might be strictly termed 

E 2 



54 PUBLIC GAMES 

national. Of these the most celebrated were the Olympic, 
the Pythian, the Nemean, and the Isthmian ; the first dedi- 
cated to Jupiter, the second to Apollo, the third to Arche- 
morus originally, though renewed in honour of Hercules 
after the destruction of the Nemean lion ; the fourth, which 
took their name from the Isthmus of Corinth, where they 
were celebrated, were consecrated to Neptune. These 
were the four great solemn public festivals of the Greeks, 
which, by instilling into them at a rude and barbarous era 
a disinterested love of fame, for the noblest reward was a 
simple laurel wreath, by inspiring them with a love of the 
arts, and by imbuing them with the spirit of social life, con- 
tributed not less to their aggrandizement over other nations, 
than to the advancement of civilization among themselves. 

According to some writers, the Pythian games, cele- 
brated near the temple of Delphi, were instituted by 
Apollo himself in commemoration of his victory over the 
serpent Python; though others maintain that they were 
first established by the council of the Amphictyons 1263 
years before Christ. They were originally held once in 
nine years, but afterward every fifth year, consisting in 
their earlier course of a simple musical contention, wherein 
he who best sang the praises of Apollo obtained the prize, 
which was a garland of the palm-tree, or of beech-leaves. 
Hesiod, it is said, was refused admission to these games 
from his inability to play upon the harp, which was required 
of all such as entered the lists. The songs called the Pythian 
modes were divided into five parts, containing a repre- 
sentation of the victory of Apollo over Python in the follow- 
ing order : — ^the preparation for the fight ; the first attempt ; 
taking breath and collecting courage ; the insulting sar- 
casms of the god over his vanquished enemy ; an imitation 
of the hisses of the serpent just as he expired under the 
blows of Apollo. Appropriate dances were introduced, 
which, combining with vocal and instrumental music in the 
representation of a story, would bear no very remote resem- 
blance to a modern opera ; and suggested doubtless to 
Thespis, as has been already intimated, the first hint of the 
drama. The Romans are thought to have introduced these 
games into their city under the name of Apollinares ludi. 

Various reasons are assigned for the first institution of 
the Nemean games, though most writers concur in ascrib- 
ing their renewal and enlargement to Hercules, after his 



OF THE GRECIANS. 65 

destruction of the Nemean lion. The Argives, Corinthians, 
and the inhabitants of Cleonae generally presided by turns 
at their celebration, which occurred every hfth, or, according 
to some authorities, every third year, and consisted of fo ot, 
chariot, and horse-races, boxing, wrestling, and gymnastic 
contests of every kind, to which were subsequently added 
singing and music. The conqueror was rewarded with a 
crown of olive until the time of the war against the Medes, 
when a check experienced by the Greeks occasioned them 
to substitute parsley, which was a funeral plant. The cele- 
bration of these games served as an epoch to the Argives, 
and to the inhabitants of that part of Arcadia which bor- 
dered upon the Nemean forest. 

The Isthmian games, instituted 1350 years before Christy 
were exnibited near a fine wood that shaded a magnificent 
temple of Neptune, in the vicinity of Corinth. Being origiiv- 
ally celebrated at night, they rather resembled nocturnal! 
mysteries than public spectacles. After having been sus- 
pended for some time on account of the great number of 
robberies and murders committed during their performance 
they were restored by Theseus, eleventh king of Athens, 
after he had cleared the country of the banditti who infested 
it. On their re-establishment they were exhibited during 
the day, and solemnly consecrated to Neptune, Theseus 
stipulating with the people of Corinth, in return for the 
service he had rendered them, that the Athenians should not 
only be entitled to the front ranks during the performances, 
but that there should be a space betv^een their seats and the 
others, as wide as the sail of the vessel in which they should 
arrive from Athens ; a condition which shows the great im- 
portance attached to these national spectacles, and to the 
possession of the most honourable places. Like the other 
games, they consisted originally of races, and trials of 
bodily strength or skill, to which were eventually added 
competitions in music and poetry. The concourse of spec- 
tators was usually so great, that none but the principal 
inhabitants of the Grecian cities could be provided with 
places. 

But it was under the Romans that the Isthmian games 
attained their greatest magnificence, for besides the exhibi- 
tions we have enumerated, they introduced the hunting of 
wild beasts, collecting for that purpose the most uncommon 
animals from every quarter of the world. These games. 



56 PUBLIC GAMES 

which furnished an epoch to the Corinthians and the neigh- 
bouring people, were held so inviolable, that even a public 
calamity could not prevent their celebration. When Corinth 
was destroyed by Mummius, the Roman general, they con- 
tinued to be observed with no other alteration than that the 
right of superintendence was transferred to the Sicyonians, 
though it was subsequently restored to the Corinthians. 
Not long after this occurrence, during the performance of 
the Isthmian games, the victorious Romans, by an act of 
apparent generosity, emanating however from the political 
wisdom that governed all their councils at that period, made 
a public and solemn restoration of liberty to the whole of 
Greece. Livy thus relates the event, which, from its theat- 
rical air, is exceedingly characteristic of the times. 

An innumerable multitude of people had croAvded to the 
Isthmian games, either attracted by the natural passion of 
the Greeks for public shows, or from the accessibility of the 
place, which, being between two seas, allowed an easy ap- 
proach from all quarters. The Romans having taken their 
place in the assembly, the herald advanced into the middle 
of the arena, and having procured silence by sound of trum- 
pet, pronounced aloud the following decree : " The Senate, 
the Roman people, and the General Titus Quintius Fla- 
minius, after having conquered the King of Macedonia, 
declare that henceforward the Corinthians and all the people 
of Greece, formerly subjected to the dominion of Philip, 
shall enjoy their liberty, their immunities, and their privi- 
leges, and shall be governed by their own laws." 

Filled with astonishment, doubting their own ears, and 
taking for a dream that which had passed before their eyes, 
the people gazed for some moments at one another, and 
then calling upon the herald to repeat his announcement, 
pressed tumultuously around him that they might not only 
hear but see the proclaimer of their liberty. After the 
herald had repeated the same formula, the whole assemblage 
abandoned themselves to an ungovernable transport of joy, 
filling the air with such loud and reiterated acclamations 
that it was easy to see they valued their liberty as the most 
precious of all boons. In confirmation of this remark, the his- 
torian adds, that it even took away their enjoyment of the 
pending games, since they could hear, see, talk, and think 
of nothing but their newly-proclaimed liberty. This gre^ 
event occurred 194 years before Christ. 



OF THE GRECIANS. 57 

At a subsequent celebration Nero renewed in person the 
same promises, and conferred the right of Roman citizen- 
ship upon the Isthmian judges, whom he loaded with pre- 
sents ; but the Grecian people, oppressed with the yoke of 
their conquerors and the misfortunes which they had now 
endured for more than a century, only acknowledged his 
promises by feeble acclamations. Disheartened by the ex- 
actions of the prsetors set over them, and losing those feel- 
ings of pride and patriotism by which they had been for- 
merly animated, they had no longer the spirit to support 
the public shows, which insensibly lost their celebrity, 
and declined, until the Isthmian games entirely ceased in 
the reign of Adrian, about the 130th year of the Chris- 
tian era. 

Of these three festivals we have only furnished a brief 
outline, because it is our purpose to place more fully before 
the reader the order and succession of sports in the Olym- 
pic games, which were by far the most celebrated and mag- 
nificent of any. The sanctity and solemnity of that insti- 
tution, the majesty and supremacy of the god to whom it 
was dedicated, and the great value set upon the Olympic 
crowns by every province of Greece, were sufficient argu- 
ments for furnishing it with an august founder ; and this 
honour was accordingly ascribed in the first instance to Ju- 
piter himself, after his defeat of the Titans. Others have 
assigned it to Hercules, maintaining that he caused the 
games to be first celebrated about 1222 years before our era ; 
but all agree that after they had fallen into desuetude, they 
were revived and enlarged by the advice of Lycurgus, and 
the orders of a king of Elis named Iphitus ; who, being 
deeply afflicted at the calamities rnider which his country 
was then suffering, consulted the oracle of Delphi for a 
remedy, and was told by the Pythoness that the safety of 
Greece depended upon the re-establishment of the Olympic 
games ; the non-observance of which solemnity had drawn 
down the indignation of the god to whom they were dedi- 
cated, and of Hercules, the hero by whom they were insti- 
tuted. There was probably more truth, and Certainly more 
wisdom than usual in this answer of the oracle ; for as the 
celebration of the games was to be preceded by a general 
truce among the belligerent states, the prediction was accom- 
plished to a certain extent by this preliminary measure ; 
while the amicable intercourse of the hostile parties wa 



58 PUBLIC GAMES 

sure to soften the asperities of war, and not unlikely to pro- 
duce a general peace. To this armistice Iphitus added a 
public mart or fair for the benefit of commerce, reduced the 
festival into a regular and coherent system, united the sa- 
cred and political institutions, provided for its regular recur- 
rence at the commencement of every fifth year, and by mak- 
ing the epoch of its revival an Olympiad, or public era for 
the whole peninsula, imparted such a stability to the insti- 
tution that it lasted with little variation for above a thou- 
sand years, a duration exceeding that of the most celebrated 
kingdoms and republics of antiquity. The first of these 
stated Olympiads, which constitutes the earhest regular and 
authentic notation of time among the heathen, occurred in 
the year of the world 3208, being 505 years after the taking 
of Troy, 776 years before the birth of Christ, and 24 years 
before the foundation of Rome. 

Historians are incalculably indebted to this epoch, which, 
superseding the fables and inventions of the mythologists, 
first threw light into the confused chaos of time ; but no one 
has acknowledged his obligations more fervently than Scali- 
ger ; who, though he seldom paid compliments, thus enthu- 
siastically apostrophizes the Olympiads ; " Hail, divine Olym- 
piads ! sacred depositories of truth, you who repress the 
audacious licentiousness of chronologists ! It is you who 
throw a certain light upon history ; were it not for you 
how many truths would be still buried in the night of igno- 
rance ! To you I address my homage, because it is by 
your means that we can fix with accuracy, not only the 
events that have occurred since your institution, but those 
that were done in the remote ages before it. By your help 
also we are enabled to fix the dates and epochas of the 
Holy Scriptures, notwithstanding what silly and ignorant 
people advance, who say that without the Holy Scriptures 
there would be no coming at the knowledge of thy epocha ; 
than which nothing can be conceived more absurd and 
monstrous." 

As the historical and other writers of ancient Greece and 
Rome are now coming daily into perusal even by our females, 
and the frequent mention of the Olympiads may often necessi- 
tate a comparison with the Christian era, we subjoin a table, 
by which the correspondent dates of the two modes of no- 
tation may be instantly ascertained. 



OF THE GRECIANS. 



59 



TABLE FOR 


rHE REDUCTION 


OP 


OLYMPIADS INTO YEARS 






BEFORE CHRIST. 




Olym 


begins 


Olym 


begins 


Olym 


begins lOlym. 


begins 


Olym. begins 


Olym. begins 




B.C. 


li 


B.C. 




B.C. 




B.C. 




n.v. 


B.C. 


~Y 


776 


644 


67 


~512 


100 


380 


132 


252 


164 124 


2 


772 


35 


640 


68 


508 


101 


376 


133 


248 


165 120 


3 


768 


36 


636 


69 


504 


102 


372 


134 


244 


166 116 


4 


764 


37 


632 


70 


500 


103 


368 


135 


240 


167 112 


5 


760 


38 


628 


71 


496 


104 


364 


136 


236 


168 108 


6 


756 


39 


624 


72 


492 


105 


360 


137 


232 


169 104 


7 


752 


40 


620 


73 


488 


106 


356 


138 


228 


170 100 


8 


748 


41 


616 


74 


484 


107 


352 


139 


224 


171 96 


9 


744 


42 


612 


75 


480 


108 


348 


140 


220 


172 92 


10 


740 


43 


608 


76 


476 


109 


344 


141 


216 


173 88 


11 


736 


44 


604 


77 


472 


110 


340 


142 


212 


174 84 


12 


732 


45 


600 


78 


468 


111 


336 


143 


208 


175 80 


13 


728 


46 


596 


79 


464 


112 


332 


144 


204 


176 76 


14 


724 


47 


592 


80 


460 


113 


328 


145 


200 


177 72 


15 


720 


48 


588 


81 


456 


114 


324 


146 


196 


178 68 


16 


716 


49 


584 


82 


452 


115 


320 


147 


192 


179 64 


17 


712 


50 


580 


83 


448 


116 


316 


148 


188 


180 60 


18 


708 


51 


576 


84 


444 


117 


312 


149 


184 


181 56 


19 


704 


52 


572 


85 


440 


113 


308 


150 


180 


182 52 


20 


700 


53 


568 


86 


436 


119 


304 


151 


176 


183 48 


21 


696 


54 


564 


87 


432 


120 


300 


152 


172 


184 44 


22 


692 


55 


560 


88 


428 


121 


296 


153 


168 


185 40 


2S 


688 


56 


556 


89 


424 


122 


292 


154 


164 


186 36 


24 


684 


57 


552 


90 


420 


123 


288 


155 


160 


187 32 


25 


680 


58 


548 


91 


416 


124 


284 


156 


156 


188 28 


26 


«76 


59 


544 


92 


412 


125 


280 


157 


152 


189 24 


27 


672 


60 


540 


93 


408 


126 


276 


158 


148 


190 20 


28 


668 


61 


536 


94 


404 


127 


272 


159 


144 


191 16 


29 


€64 


62 


532 


95 


400 


128 


268 


160 


140 


192 12 


30 


660 


63 


528 


96 


396 


129 


264 


161 


136 


193 8 


31 


656 


64 


524 


97 


392 


130 


260 


162 


132 


194 4 


32 


652 


65 


520 


98 


388 


131 


256 


163 


128 


195 1st 


33 


648 


66 


516 


99 


384 








year of our Lord. J 



The computation by Olympiads ceased after the 304th, 
which corresponds with the 440th year of the Christian era. 

The festival, which lasted five days, commenced at the 
next full moon, after the summer solstice, and was held at 
Olympia, in Elis, in the neighbourhood of which city was 
the hippodrome, the stadium, and the sacred grove con- 
taining the celebrated temple of the Olympian Jupiter, to- 
gether with the theatre and other buildings appropriated to 
the games ; of which, and of the environs where the vast 
multitude of spectators were collected, some idea may be 
formed from the annexed topographical plan, drawn from 
the work of the learned M. Barthelemy. 



60 PUBLIC GAMES 

So extensive were the preparations for this spectacle, that 
the intervening period of four entire years did not always 
suffice for the completion of the necessary arrangements. 
The choice, breaking in, and exercising of the horses for the 
different races, as well as the selection and embellishment 
of the cars, was a work of time ; the candidates were 
obliged to enrol their names some months beforehand, to 
swear that they had been regularly exercised during ten. 
months ; and thirty days before the games it was their 
duty to assemble at Elis, where they were again compelled 
to exhibit their strength and skill every morning, under the 
inspection of proper officers, until the games commenced. 
After this severe probation, first at home and then at Elis, 
they were dismissed on their departure for Olympia with 
the following exhortation : " If ye have exercised yourselves 
m a manner suitable to the dignity of the Olympic games, 
and are conscious of having done no action that betrays a 
slothful, cowardly, and illiberal disposition, proceed boldly. 
If not, depart, all ye that are so minded !" 

The city of Olympia, known also by the name of Pisa, 
was situated on the right bank of the Alpheus, and at the 
foot of an eminence called the Mount of Saturn, at an easy 
distance from the Ionian Sea. Within the Altis, which 
was a sacred wood surrounded with walls, stood the tem- 
ple of Jupiter, containing the celebrated colossal statue of 
that deity by Phidias, besides an infinite variety of columns, 
trophies, triumphal cars, and innumerable statues in brass 
or marble, dispersed throughout all the avenues of the sacred 
precinct. All of these bore inscriptions specifying the mo- 
tives of their consecration, the statues being mostly those 
of victors in the games, whose exploits were thus recalled 
to the assembled citizens of Greece every four years, and 
handed down to the latest posterity, through successive 
generations of admiring spectators. 

For some days previous to the festival, crowds were seen 
flocking to Olympia in all directions by sea and land, from 
every part of Greece, and even from the most distant 
countries, for there was no part of the earth to which the 
fame of the Olympic games had not penetrated, and few 
people who were not intensely anxious to become spectators 
of them. The ceremonies opened in the evening with 
sacrifices upon all the altars, which were adorned with 




\rjL ^ZtC'^ Temple ot J Hj.! lor 
liippodtiuiiuu „f ^ 



w^ 



S A C 1? E T) Ct 1? O V R 




JKw' TcrA , rudthhcd fyJ.lkJ.Hatfw. 



^mm^m^^^"^:i m- mi^^mtiA - 



OF THE GRECIANS. 01 

festoons, the principal offerings being reserved for the grand 
altar of Jupiter. These were upon a scale commensurate 
with the general magnificence of the celebration, all the 
principal cities of Greece sending victims for the Olympian 
Jupiter ; while private individuals, especially those who had 
gained the honour of an Olympic victory, sometimes made 
very sumptuous sacrifices at their own expense. Alcibiades, 
after having gained three prizes in the chariot-race, feasted 
the whole concourse of Grecians that were gathered together 
to view the games with the victims offered to Jupiter, only 
a small part of which was consumed upon the altar. It is 
probable, indeed, that the vast multitudes collected upon 
these occasions were chiefly subsisted by the sacrifices pro- 
vided by the different cities ; of one or other of which 
every private Grecian had a right to partake. The sacri- 
ficial ceremonies, performed to the sound of instruments, 
and by the light of the moon, then near its full, were 
attended with every circumstance of magnificence and so- 
lemnity that could awaken admiration and inspire reverence. 
At midnight, when they ended, most of the spectators, with 
an eagerness that never deserted them during the whole fes- 
tival, ran instantly to secure places in the course, the better 
to enjoy the spectacle of the games, which were to com- 
mence at daybreak. 

The Elean people, represented by judges termed Hellan- 
odichs, had the entire direction of every thing appertaining 
to the festival, being invested for the occasion with plenary 
authority to keep in perfect order that vast assemblage, com- 
posed of men of all ranks, and of every region and colony 
of Greece. Clothed in purple robes, and bearing the usual 
ensigns of magistracy, these judges seem to have sometimes 
exercised a sort of papal power, not only claiming the right 
to punish refractory or contumacious individuals, but to 
excommunicate whole nations, and cut theni off from the 
right of participation in the festival. Lycurgus originally 
fixed the order of the athletic combats, which corresponded 
almost exactly with that described by Homer in the twenty- 
third book of the Iliad, and eighth of the Odyssey ; but the 
judges had authority to modify and suspend any of them, 
or to add new games, according to circumstances. Never, 
however, did the Greeks, except for a short time at Corinth, 
adopt the cruel gladiatorial shows of the Romans oevej 
F 



62 THE OLYMPIC GAMES. 

did they regard them with any other feeling than that of 
disgust and horror ; never did the poHshed Athenians admit 
any spectacle of that sort within their walls, notwithstanding 
the example of their conquerors, and of some of their own 
degenerate countrymen ; and when a citizen once thought 
proper to propose publicly the introduction of these games, 
in order, as he said, that Athens might not be inferior to 
Corinth, " Let us first," cried an Athenian, with vivacity, 
" let us first overthrow the altar of Pity, which our ances- 
tors set up more than a thousand years ago." 



CHAPTER VI. 

The Olympic Games. 

" Sunt quos curriculo pulverem Olympicum 
Collegisse juvat ; metaque fervidis 
Evitata rotis, palmaque nobilis 
Terrarum dominos evehit ad Deos." 

Horat. i. 1. 

The Olympic course was divided into two parts — the sta- 
dium, and the hippodromus ; the former of which was an 
elevated open causeway, six hundred feet long, being ap- 
propriated to the foot-races and most of the combats ; 
while the latter was reserved for the chariot and horse-races. 
Pausanias has transmitted to us an accurate description of 
both, particularly of the hippodromus ; but instead of a 
detail which would be little interesting to the general 
reader, we prefer copying the following animated picture 
of the scene exhibited at Olympia on the morning when 
the games were opened. " At the first dawn of day we 
repaired to the stadium, which was already filled with 
athletffi, exercising themselves in preparatory skirmishes, 
and surrounded by a multitude of spectators ; while others 
in still greater numbers were stationing themselves con- 
fusedly on a hill, in form of an amphitheatre, above the 
course. Chariots were flying over the plain ; on all sides 
were heard the sound of trumpets and the neighing of 



THE OLYMPIC GAMES. 63 

horses, mingled with the shouts of the multitude. But 
when we were able to divert our eyes for a moment from 
this spectacle, and to contrast with the tumultuous agita- 
tions of the public joy the repose and silence of nature, 
how delightful were the impressions we experienced from 
the serenity of the sk)'-, the delightful coolness of the air 
from the Alpheus, which here forms a magnificent canal, 
and the fertile fields, illumed and embellished by the first 
rays of the sun !"* 

The candidates, having undergone an examination, and 
proved to the satisfaction of the judges that they were 
freemen, that they were Grecians by birth, and that they 
were clear from all infamous and immoral stains, were led 
to the statue of Jupiter within the senate-house. This 
image, says Pausanias, was better calculated than any 
other to strike terror into wicked men, for he was repre- 
sented with thunder in both hands ; and, as if that were 
not a sufficient intimation of the wrath of the deity agamst 
those who should forswear themselves, at his feet there was 
a plate of brass containing terrible denunciations against 
the perjured. Before this statue the candidates, their rela- 
tions, and instructers swore on the bleeding limbs of the 
victims that they were duly qualified to engage, solemnly 
vowing not to employ any unfair means, but to observe all 
the laws relating to the Olympic games. After this they 
returned to the stadium, and took their stations by lot, 
when the herald demanded — " Can any one reproach these 
athletae with having been in bonds, or with leading an ir- 
regular life ]" A profound silence generally followed this 
interrogatory, and the combatants became exalted in the 
estimation of the assembly, not only by this universal tes- 
timony to their moral character, but by the consideration 
that they were the free unsullied champions of the re- 
spective states to which they belonged ; not engaged in 
any vulgar struggle for interested or ordinary objects, but 
incited to competition by a noble love of fame, and a desire 
to uphold the renown of their native cities in the presence 
of assembled Greece. Such being the qualities required 
before they could enter the lists, it was some distinction 

* Anacharsis, cap. 38. 



64 THE OLYMPIC GAMES. 

even to have been an unsuccessful competitor, for each 
might truly exclaim in the words of Achelous, when de- 
feated by Hercules, 

Non tarn 
Turpe fuit vinci quam contendisse decorum. 

Filled with anxiety, their friends gathered round them, 
stimulating their exertions, or affording them advice, until 
the moment arrived when the trumpet sounded. At this 
signal the runners started off amid the cries and clamour 
of the excited multitude, whose vociferations did not cease 
until the herald procured silence by his trumpet, and pro- 
claimed the name and abode of the winner. The follow- 
ing is a translation of an epigram upon this subject in the 
Greek anthology, the hyperbole of which, when the poet 
describes the swiftness of the victor, may be compared with 
Virgil's upon Camilla. It must be borne in mind that 
Tarsus, the birthplace of the winner, was founded by Per- 
seus, who in old fables is represented as having had wings 
upon his feet. 

ON ARIAS OF TARSUS, VICTOR IN THE STADIUM. 

The speed of Arias, victor in the race, 
Recalls the founder of his native place. 
For, able in the course with him to vie, 
Like him he seems on feather'd feet to fly. 
The barrier when he quits, the dazzled sight 
In vaiu essays to catch him in his flight. 
Lost is the racer thro' the whole career, 
Till Victor at the goal he reappear. 

The prize of the simple foot-race in the stadium, as it 
■was the most ancient, was deemed the most honourable of 
any ; so much so, that the name of the victor was gene- 
rally associated with the Olympiad, and quoted with it by 
writers and historians ; a distinction which must have been 
more attractive than any other to a people so passionately 
fond of fame as the Greeks. To vary the diversions of the 
stadium, foot-races were afterward performed by children, 
by armed men, and by athletae, who ran twelve times the 
length of the stadium. None of the victors were crowned 
till the last day of the festival, but at the end of the race 
they carried off a branch of palm, an emblem, says PIu- 



THE OLYMPIC GAMES. 65 

tarch, of their insuperable vigour and resolution in triumph- 
ing over difficulties, since it is the nature of that plant to 
rise and flourish against all endeavours to bend or suppress 
it. In order to excite the greater emulation, the olive 
crowns as well as the palm-branches were deposited on a 
table of gold and ivory, placed within view of the competi- 
tors and of the whole assemblage. On his receiving the 
palm, every one pressed forward to see and congratulate 
the victor ; his friends and relations embraced him with 
tears of joy, and, lifting him on their shoulders, held him 
up to the applauses of the spectators, who strewed hand- 
fuls of flowers over him. 

The gymnastic exercises, which bore the name of the 
Pentathlon, consisted usually of leaping, running, quoiting, 
darting, and wrestling, the precise form and manner of 
which it is unnecessary to detail ; though we may notice, 
before we quit this part of the subject, that the leapers per- 
formed to the sound of flutes playing Pythian airs, and 
that they seem to have had poles or some artificial assist- 
ance in jumping. This, indeed, would be necessary, if 
we are to credit an inscription, cited by Eustathius, on the 
statue of Phaulus of Crotona, which asserts that he had 
leaped a distance of fifty-five feet. Chionis, the Spartan, 
is said to have accomplished fifty-two. 

The csestus, a cruel and dangerous species of boxing, 
in which the hands and arms were furnished with gaunt- 
lets, loaded with lead or iron, was revived in the twenty- 
third Olympird; but, as the victory in this game was fre- 
quently stained with blood, it was never held in much 
estimation by the Greeks, who evinced in their public sports 
none of the sanguinary ferocity that characterized the 
Romans. Damoxenus, a champion of the caestus, having 
slam his adversary under circumstances of much cruelty 
and treachery, was not only refused the wreath, but driven 
from the stadium with every mark of infamy and indigna- 
tion, while his deceased victim was solemnly crowned by the 
judges. The combatants in this exercise wore headpieces 
of brass for their defence, notwithstanding which they 
were often terribly mutilated, though they might escape 
with life and limb. The following epigram of Lucilius in-' 
forms us that a caestus-fighter once became so disfigured 



66 THE OLYMPIC GAMES. 

that, being unable to establish his identity, he lost his inherit- 
ance to a younger brother. 

ON A CONQUEROR IN THE CuSESTUS. 

This victor, glorious in his olive vsrreath, 

Had once eyes, eyebrows, nose, and ears, and teeth, 

But turning caestus-champion, to his cost, 

These and, still worse, his heritage he lost! 

For by his brother sued — disown'd — at last, 

Confronted with his picture, he was cast.* 

Aulus Gellius relates a singular story of one of the ath- 
letae, a confirmed stammerer, who, being a candidate for 
one of the four sacred crowns, and perceiving the officer 
who was appointed to match the combatants fraudulently 
endeavouring to put a wrong lot upon him, cried out against 
it with such vehemence, that the impediment being suddenly 
cured, he continued for the rest of his life to speak without 
hesitation. 

These gymnastic exercises, being the most ancient, took 
precedence of the horse and chariot-races, though the com- 
petitors in the latter were, generally speaking, men of 
higher rank and consideration than the athletse, and the 
spectacle was much more pompous and magnificent. The 
richest individuals of Greece made a study and a merit of 
producing the species of horses best adapted for the course ; 
thus accomplishing the original object of the institution, 
which probably had in view the improvement of the breed : 
and even sovereigns and republics frequently enrolled them- 
selves among the competitors, intrusting their glory to able 
horsemen and charioteers. At one festival, seven chariots 
were entered in the name of the celebrated Alcibiades, three 
of which gained prizes, and furnished an occasion to Eu- 
ripides for inscribing a complimentary ode to the conqueror. 
Over a bar that ran across the entrance of the lists was 
placed a brazen dolphin, and upon an altar in the middle of 
the barrier stood an eagle of the same metal. By means 
of a machine, put in motion by the president of the games, 
the eagle suddenly sprang up into the air with its wings 
extended, so as to be seen by all the spectators ; and at the 
same moment the dolpliin sank to the ground, which was 

* Anthol. lib. ii. cap. 1. ep. 1. 



*'■ 



THE OLYMPIC GAMES. 6t 

the signal for the cars to arrange themselves in order for 
the race. Besides the statue of Hippodainia, and the table 
on which were placed the crowns and palm-branches, there 
were several images and altars in the course, particularly 
that of the genius Taraxippus, who, as his name imports, 
was said to inspire the horses with a secret terror, which 
was increased by the shrill clangour of the trumpets placed 
near the boundary, and the deafening shouts and outcries 
of the multitude. 

While the chariots were ranged in line ready to start, 
the horses, whose ardour it was difficult to restrain, at- 
tracted all eyes by their beauty, as well as for the victories 
which some of them had already gained. Pindar speaks 
of no less than forty chariots engaged at one and the same 
time. If we recollect that they had to run twelve times 
the length of the hippodrome in going and returning, and 
to steer round a pillar or goal erected at each extremity, we 
may imagine what confusion must have ensued when, upon 
the signal trumpet being sounded, they started amid a cloud 
of dust, crossing and jostling each other, and rushing for- 
ward with such rapidity that the eye could scarcely follow 
them. At one of the boundaries a narrow pass was only 
left for the chariots, which often baffled the skill of the ex- 
pertest driver ; and there were upwards of twenty turnings 
to make round the two pillars, so that at almost every mo- 
ment some accident happened, calculated to excite the pity 
or insulting laughter of the assembly. In such a number 
of chariots at full speed pushing for precedence in turning 
round the columns, on which victory often depended, some 
were sure to be dashed to pieces, covering the course with 
their fragments, and adding to the dangers of the race. 
As it was, moreover, exceedingly difficult for the charioteer 
in his unsteady two-wheeled car to retain his standing atti- 
tude, many were thrown out, when the masterless horses 
plunged wildly about the hippodrome, overturning others 
w^ho had perhaps previously escaped every danger, and 
thought themselves sure of winning. To increase the con- 
fusion, and thereby afford better opportunities for the dis- 
play of skill and coura.ge, there is reason to believe that 
some artifice was employed for the express purpose of 
frightening the horses when they reached the statue of 
Taraxippus. So great sometimes was their consternation, 



68 THE OLYMPIC GAMES. 

iRsi no longer regarding the rein, the whip, or the voice of 
their master, they broke loose, or overturned the chariot and 
wounded the driver. Perhaps it would be impossible to 
give a more accurate description of a chariot-race in all its 
forms than is furnished by the following passage from the 
Electra of Sophocles, as translated by West. After enu- 
merating the ten different competitors for the prize, the 
author proceeds — 

These, when the judges of the games by lot 
Had fix'd their order and arranged the cars, 
All at the trumpet's signal, all at once, 
Burst from the barrier, all together cheer'd 
Their fiery steeds, and shook the floating reins. 
Soon with the din of rattling cars was filFd 
The sounding hippodrome, and clouds of dust, 
Ascending, tainted the fresh breath of morn. 
Now mix'd and press'd together, on they diove, 
Nor spared the smarting lash, impatient each 
To clear his chariot, and outstrip the throng 
Of clashing axles, and short-blowing steeds, 
That panted on each other's necks, and threw 
On each contiguous yoke the milky foam. 

Bui to the pillar as he nearer drew, 
Orestes, reining in the nearmost steed. 
While in a larger scope with loo.'sen'd reins, 
And lash'd up to their speed the others flew, 
Turn'd swift around the goal his grazing wheel 

As yet erect upon their whirling orbs 
RoU'd every chariot, till the hard-mouthed steeds 
That drew the Thracian car unmaster'd broke 
With violence away, and turning short 
(When o'er the hippodrome, with winged speed, 
They had completed now the seventh career), 
Dash'd their wild foreheads 'gainst the Libyan car. 
From this one luckless chance, a train of ills 
Succeeding, rudely on each other fell 
Horses and charioteers, and soon was fill'd 
With wrecks of shatter'd cars the Phocian plain. 

Erect Orestes, and erect his car. 
Thro' all the number'd courses now had stood; 
But luckless in the last, as round the goal 
The wheeling courser turned, the hither rein 
Imprudent he relax'd, and on the stone 
The shatter'd axle dashing, from the wheel 
Fell headlong, hampcr'd in the tangling reins. 
The frighted mares flew diverse o'er the course. 

The throng'd assembly, when they saw their chief 
Hurl'd from his chariot, with compassion moved. 
His youth deplored, deplored him glorious late 
For mighty deeds, now doom'd to mighty woes; 
Now dragg'd %long the dust, his feet in air ; 



THE OLYMPIC GAMES. 69 

Till, hasting to his aid, and scarce at length 
The frantic mares restraining, from the reins 
The charioteers releas'd him, and convey'd, 
With wounds and gore disfigur'd, to his friends. 

On the last day of the festival, the conquerors, being sum- 
moned by proclamation to the tribunal within the sacred 
grove, received the honour of public coronation, a ceremony 
preceded by pompous sacrifices. Encircled with the olive- 
wreath,* gathered from the sacred tree behind the temple 
of Jupiter, the victors, dressed in rich habits, bearing palm- 
branches in their hands and almost intoxicated with joy, 
proceeded in grand procession to the theatre, marching to 
the sound of flutes, and surrounded by an immense multi- 
tude who made the air ring with their acclamations. The 
winners in the horse and chariot-races formed a part of the 
pomp — their stately coursers bedecked with flowers, seem- 
ing as they paced proudly along, to be conscious participa- 
tors of the triumph. When they reached the theatre, the 
choruses saluted them with the ancient hymn, composed by 
the poet Archilochus, to exalt the glory of the victors, the 
surrounding multitude joining their voices to those of the 
musicians. This being concluded, the trumpet sounded, 
the herald proclaimed the name and country of the victor, 
as well as the nature of his prize, the acclamations of the 
people within and without the building were redoubled, and 
flowers and garlands were showered from all sides upon the 
happy conqueror, who at this moment was thought to have 
attained the loftiest pinnacle of human glory and felicity. 
Diagoras of Rhodes, himself an Olympic victor, brought 
two of his sons to the games, who, on receiving the crown 
they had won, placed it on the head of their father, lifted 
him on their shoulders and bore him in triumph along the 
stadium. The spectators threw flowers upon him, ex- 
claiming, " Die, Diagoras ! for thou hast nothing more to 
wish," — a complimentary exclamation which was unfortu- 
nately fulfilled ; for the old man, overcome by his happiness, 
expired in sight of the assembly, and in the arms of his 
children, who bathed him with their tears. 

* This trifling reward was supposed to be in memory of the labours 
of Hercules, which were accomplished for the public good, and for which 
the hero claimed no other distinction than the consciousness of hsving 
been the friend of mankind. 



70 THE OLYMPIC GAMES. 

\ 

The last duty performed by the conquerors at Olympia 
was sacrificing to the twelve gods, which was sometimes 
done upon so magnificent a scale as to entertain the whole 
multitude who came to witness the solemnity. Their names 
were then enrolled in the archives of the Eleans, and they 
were sumptuously feasted in the banqueting-hall of the 
prytaneum. On the following days they themselves gave 
entertainments, the pleasure of which was heightened by 
music and dancing; or they were banqueted by their 
friends, who, as we learn from the following story in Plu- 
tarch, vied with one another for that honour, and thought no 
expense too great for the occasion. Phocus, having obtained 
a victory in the Panathenean games, and being invited by 
several of his friends to accept of an entertainment, at length 
pitched upon one to whom he thought that preference was 
due. But when Phocion, his father, came to the feast, and 
saw, among other extravagances^ large vessels filled with 
wine and spices set before the guests when they came in to 
wash their feet, he said to his son, " Phocus ! why do you 
not make your friend desist from dishonouring your vic- 
tory." 

At these festivities, whether public or private, were fre- 
quently sung by a chorus, accompanied with instrumental 
music, such odes as were composed in honour of the con- 
queror ; but it was not the good fortune of every victor to 
have a poet for his friend, or to be able to pay the price of 
an ode, which was sometimes considerable, as we learn from 
the scholiast upon Pindar. The friends of one Pytheas, a 
conqueror in the Nemean games, came to Pindar to bespeak 
an ode, for which he demanded so large a sum that they 
declined his offer, saying " they could erect a statue of brass 
for less money." Some time after, having changed their 
opinion, they returned and paid the price required by Pin- 
dar, who in allusion to this transaction, begins his ode with 
setting forth " that he was no statuary, no maker of images 
that could not stir from their pedestals, and consequently 
were to be seen only by those who would give themselves 
the trouble to go to the place where they were erected ; but 
he could make a poem which should fly over the whole earth, 
and publish in every place that Pytheas had gained the 
crown in the Nemean games."* 

* West's Pindar, vol. iii. p. 185 



THE OLYMPIC GAMES. 71 

Already loaded with honours at the scene of action, the 
victors returned to their own country with all the pageantry 
of triumph, preceded and followed by a numerous train, and 
sometimes entered their native city through a breach made 
in the walls, to denote that the place which could produce 
such strong and valiant men had little need of stone bul- 
warks. " In certain places, the victors had a competent 
subsistence furnished to them from the public treasury ; in 
others they were exempt from all taxes ; at Lacedaemon, 
where every distinction was of a warlike nature, they had 
the honour to combat near the king ; almost every where 
they had precedency at the local games ; and the title of 
Olympic victor added to their names ensured them an 
attentive respect, which constituted the happiness of their 
future lives." t 

To perpetuate their glory after death, the conquerors 
themselves, their friends, or their country, generally set up 
their statues in the sacred grove of the Olympian Jupiter, 
which contained an almost incredible number of these 
figures. A long list of the most remarkable may be found 
in the sixth book of Pausanias. The statue of Ladas, an 
eminent racer, was so animated, not only in point of atti- 
tude, but in the lively expression of assured victory in the 
countenance, that " it is going this moment," says an epi- 
gram in the Anthology, " to leap from the pedestal and seize 
the crown." 

To form a correct notion of the appearance of Olympia 
and its neighbourhood at the period of the games, it must 
be recollected that the whole open country, and more es- 
pecially the banks of the Alpheus, bore the semblance of a 
vast encampment, from the great number of tents set up to 
accommodate the visiters ; and that as business and traffic 
were combined with pleasure in this national festival, the 
great fair, with its dealers, showmen, mountebanks, and ex- 
nibiters of all sorts, occupied every moment not engrossed 
by the games. River and sea were covered with innume- 
rable vessels ; the shore with carriages and horses ; specta- 
tors were thronging from all quarters of the earth, and in 
every possible variety of costume, some conducting victims 
for the Olympian Jupiter, some deputed to publish edicts, 

* Anacharsis, cap. 38. 



72 THE OLYMPIC GAMES* 

others coming to display their vanity and ostentation, or to* dis- 
tinguish themselves by their superior talents and knowledge- 
Here sculptors, painters, or artists exhibited specimens of 
their skill — there rhapsodists were to be seen reciting frag- 
ments of Homer and Hesiod ; while the peristyles of the 
lemples and all the most conspicuous places in the porti- 
coes, walks, and groves were crowded with sophists, phi- 
losophers, poets, orators, and historians, arguing with one 
another, reciting their productions, and pronouncing eulo- 
gies on the Olympic games, on their respective couatries, 
or on distinguished individuals whose favour they wished ta 
conciliate. 

In the midst of the various ptirsuitg of this amazing con- 
gress of p«?ople, all animated by feelings of interest or of 
pleasure, they would suddenly suspend their avocations and 
amusements to participate in some pompous ceremony of 
that religion which, uniting them all in a common bond of 
alliance, sanctified and exalted their diversions, by imparting 
to them a character of duty and devotion. It is not suffi- 
cient to picture to ourselves the scenery, the climate, and all 
the varied magnificence of the spectacle we have been at- 
tempting to describe ; we must imagine themoral, religious, 
and patriotic feelings of the assemblage, and the enthusiasm 
that such a union would generate, before we can form any 
conception of the Olympic games. 

Among the benefactors of this festival, at an advanced 
stage of its existence, was Herod, afterward King of Judea, 
Seeing on Ms way to Rome the games neglected, or dwin- 
dling into inssignificance, from the poverty of the Eleans, he 
displayed vast munificence as president, and provided an 
ample revenue for their future support and dignity. That 
they should derive such assistance from a Jew, to the nature 
and ordinances of whose religion they were so repugnant, 
seems a strange and anomalous circumstance. But though 
this and subsequent instances of equally powerful patron- 
age might for a time protract their lingering existence, no- 
thing could finally prevent the extinction of these celebrated 
games. The political decadence and impoverishment of 
Greece, the devastation of that country and of all Europe 
by the barbarians, but, above all, the extending influence 
of Christianity, whose votaries proclaimed open war 
not only against the deities but the institutions of th« 






THE OLYMPIC GAMES. 7? 

pagans, at length accomplished the downfall of the Olympic 
festival. 

So mutable are human affairs, so short is the comparative 
duration of the mightiest dynasties and empires, that the 
Olympic games, by the mere fact of their having continued 
jn unbroken quinquennial celebration for a thousand years 
from the period of their revival, command a sort of reverence, 
and excite a feeling of involuntary sadness at the thought of 
their discontinuance and oblivion. Lofty and ennobling, 
and pleasant from the classical reminiscences they awaken, 
are all the associations connected with them. Kings and 
powerful states were often competitors at these illustrious 
sports, to the periodical recurrence of which the whole civil- 
ized world looked forward with an intensity of expectation 
that absorbed every other thought and pursuit. Public and 
private business was forgotten, the fiercest wars were sus- 
pended, a universal truce was proclaimed by sea and land, 
that all mankind might travel in safety to Olympia, and 
regard nothing but the paramount, the supreme object of 
attention — the festival. And all this has passed away like a 
dream which, howe.ver glorious and magnificent while it 
lasted, leav;es not a shadow behind ! That institution 
which had endured for so many ages, and formed the de- 
light of such numerous generations of mankind, is now only 
an empty remembrance, a subject for the antiquary and the 
historian, Olympia is no more : its solid temples, the co- 
lossal statue of Jupiter, the sacred grove with its myriad of 
statues, altars, trophies, columns, monuments of gods, kings, 
and heroes, in brass, marble, and iron, have crumbled into 
dust, and become so effectually mingled with the earth, 
that even the site which they embellished can be no longer 
recognised. Nay, the very deities themselves in whose 
honour these games were instituted, and who had received 
the homage of the Pagan world since the infancy of time, 
have fallen into utter oblivion, or are only remembered that 
they may be converted into a by-word and a laughing 
stock. 

If there be sometli^g humiliating to human reason in the 
thought that it may be devoted, through such a long suc- 
cession of centuries, to an imaginary heaven and an eva- 
nescent pageant of earth, it is at least consolatory to reflect 
that the same human, reason, victorious over time, and death, 
G 



74 THE OLYMPIC GAMES. 

and destruction, possesses the power to embalm its own cor- 
ruptions and delusions, and erect them into a beacon of 
imperishable reminiscences for the guidance and instruction 
of the latest posterity. The Olympic gam^s, with their em- 
blazoned glories and massive monuments, have passed away 
like a sun-illumined vapour, which is exhaled into the air, 
and leaves no trace to tell us where it hovered ; but the 
odes of Pindar, in which he has recorded the names and 
exploits of the victors, are still as fresh and perfect as when 
they were first written. The passing stream of ages does 
but petrify and strengthen them against the waves of coming 
centuries, and they will doubtless endure till the tide of time 
itself shall be lost in the ocean of eternity. This is the last, 
indeed the only trophy that the Olympic games have left 
behind them, and it is one of which all mankind may be 
justly proud, for it affords an additional assurance, if such 
were necessary, that the intellectual soul is a divinity which 
shall survive its perishable shrine, and enjoy in another 
world the immortality which it can confer in this. 

That the unclassical reader may form some idea of the 
mode in which this illustrious poet celebrated the victors, 
we subjoin the shortest, though by no means the best, of his 
odes, as an appropriate termination to this brief account of 
the Olympic games. It must be recollected that these 
poems were recited or sung by a chorus, to the accompani- 
ment of musical instruments, dancing, and action. The first 
stanza, called strophe, was sung while they danced round 
the altars of the gods ; in the second, called antistrophe, 
the dance was inverted. The lesser stanza was named the 
epode, in which they sang standing still. 

THE TWELFTH OLYMPIC ODE. 

Inscribed to Ergoteles, the son of Philanor of Himera, who, in the 
seventy-seventh Olympiad (472 years B. C), gained the prizein thejoot' 
race called Dolichos, or the long course. 

STROPHE. 

Daughter of Eleutherian Jove, 
To thee my supplication I prefer ! 
For potent Himera my suit I move ; 

Protectress Fortune, hear ! 
Thy deity along the pathless main 

in her wild course the rapid vessel guides , 
Rules the fierce conflict on the embattled plain,. 

And in deliberating states presides. 



THE OLYMPIC GAMES. 75 

Toss'd by thy uncertain gale, 
On the seas of error sail 
Human hopes, now mounting high, 
On the swelling surge of joy ; 
Now, with sinafFected wo, 
Sinking to the depths below. 

ANTISTROPHE. 

For such presage of things to come, 
None yet on mortals have the gods bestow'd ; 
Nor of futurity's impervious gloom 

Can wisdom pierce the cloud. 
Oft our most sanguine views th' event deceives, 

And veils in sudden grief the smiling ray : 
Oft, when with wo the mournful bosom heaves, 
Caught in a storm of anguish and dismay. 
Pass some fleeting moments by — 
All at once the tempests fly, 
Instant shifts the clouded scene, 
Heav'n renews its smiles serene, 
And on joy's untroubled tides 
Smooth to port the vessel glides. 



Son of Philanor, in the secret shade. 
Thus had thy speed, unknow^n to fame, decay'd ; 
Thus, like the crested bird of Mars, at home. 
Engaged in foul domestic jars. 
And wasted with intestine wars, 
Inglorious hadst thou spent thy vig'rous bloom ; 
Had not sedition's civil broils 
ExpeU'd thee from thy native Crete, 
And driv'n thee with more glorious toils 
Th' Olympic crown in Pisa's plain to meet. 
With olive now, with Pythian laurels grac'd. 
And the dark chaplets of the Isthmian pine, 
In Himera's adopted city plac'd, 
To all, Ergoteles, thy honours shine. 
And raise her lustre by imparting thine. 



76 GAMES OF THE ANCIENT ROMANS, 



CHAPTER VII. 

(xames of the Ancient Romans. 

" Sacra recognosces Annalibus eruta priscis ; 
Et quo sit merito quasque notata dies. 
Invenies illicet festa domesticavobis, 
Saepe tibi pater est, saepe legendus avus." 

Ovid. Fast. lib. i. Y. 7. 

During the republic it was the practice of the Romaii 
inagistrates and rulers to court the suffrages of the citizens) 
by the frequent exhibition of shows ; it was the interest of 
the emperors to pacify and keep in subjection, by the same 
means, a people avowedly desiring nothing but bread and the 
public spectacles. The wealth of a conquered world enabled 
the imperial despots to gratify this propensity on the most 
magnificent scale ; and their subjects, therefore, had proba- 
bly in exchange for their loss of liberty a greater share of 
festivals, exhibitions, and holy days than any nation that ever 
existed. Truly they had sold their birthright for a mess of 
pottage. They wanted, indeed, the regular Sabbath of the 
Hebrews, but that deficiency had been supplied even from 
the times of Numa, by the division of their year, as noted 
upon the calendar, into days termed fasti and nefasti, in 
which the destination of each, either to labour or to the 
performance of religious sacrifices and solemnities, was 
permanently appointed. Additions to this hst were con- 
stantly made by the pontiffs, in whose custody was deposited 
the sacred calendar, and who derived an important authority 
from the power thus vested in them ; since by declaring a 
day to be lucky or unlucky they became, in some sort, the 
directors of public affairs and arbiters of the Roman destiny. 
Such was the superstition of the people, and so strictly was 
the observance of these pontifical decrees enjoined, that, 
besides a considerable fine, an expiatory sacrifice was im- 
posed upon those who even through inattention had worked 
upon a holyday. To do so designedly and contumaciously 
was an irremissible offence. 



GAMES OF THE ANCIENT ROMANS. 77 

It is worthy of remark, as illustrating the general nature 
of human beings in a social and civilized state, that so far 
from their evincing any tendency to idleness and inactivity, 
their inclinations, under the influence of covetousness, am- 
bition, or the more laudable impulses of inherent industry, 
^lispose them to such unremitting exertions, that all legis- 
lators and founders of religion have been forced to establish 
regular holydays, and to compel their observance, not only 
by the sanctions of devotion, but by visiting their infraction 
with severe pains and penalties. To adjust the fitting 
balance between the days of labour and repose is no easy 
matter, since it must depend not only on the nature and 
extent of the toil to which the people are habitually sub- 
jected, but on climate, degrees of civilization, and other col- 
lateral circumstances ; so that the regulations fit for one 
country may be very improper for another. From the books 
that remain to us of Ovid's Fasti, as well as from other 
sources, we shall have no difl[iculty in deciding that the holy- 
days prescribed in the Roman calendar were by far too 
numerous, and must have been detrimental to the best 
interests of the state. Their own religion was by no means 
tieficient in festivals : in adopting the deities of the con- 
quered nations they imported a new series of holydays. 
Reverence for their ancestors prompted them to observe 
many private commemorations, in which all pursuits of 
business were suspended : superstition prevented them 
from engaging in any undertaking on those days which, 
being marked black in the calendar, were deemed unlucky ; 
in time of war a twelvemonth rarely elapsed without a 
public triumph, which was always a period of public idle- 
ness ; and thus a considerable portion of every year was 
consumed in religious ceremonies, or general and domestic 
•festivals — a suspension of the people's labours which was 
probably of little advantage to their morals, and must have 
been unquestionably injurious to their interests. 

At a very early period we find the games of the Romans 
regulated with great order and method. Under the republic 
the consuls and pretors presided over the Circensian, Apol- 
linarian, and secular games ; the plebeian ediles had the 
direction of the plebeian games ; the curule ediles, or the 
pretor, superintended the festivals dedicated to Jupiter, 
Ceres, Apollo, Cybele, and the other chief gods. These 
G2 



78 GAMES OF TH£ ANCIENT ROMANS. 

latter celebrations, which continued during three days, were 
originally termed Ludi Magni ; but upon the term being ex- 
tended to four days by a decree of the senate, they took the 
name of Ludi Maximi. Games were instituted by the 
jRomans, not only in honour of the celestial deities of all 
nations, but even to propitiate those who presided over the 
infernal regions ; while the feralia was a festival esta- 
blished in honour of deceased mortals. Thus were keaven, 
Tartarus, and the grave, all laid under contribution for 
holydays by a religion which may be literally termed jovial, 
whether in the ancient or modern acceptation of that word, 
^he feralia continued for eleven days, during which time 
presents were carried to the graves of the dead, whose 
manes, it was universally believed, came and hovered over 
their tombs, and feasted upon the provisions which had 
been placed there by the hand of piety and affection. It 
was also believed that during this period they enjoyed rest 
and liberty, and a suspension from their punishment in the 
infernal regions. 

The scenic games, adopted from those of Greece, con- 
sisted of tragedies, comedies, and satires, represented at the 
theatre in honour of Bacchus, Venus, and Apollo. To 
render these exhibitions more attractive to the common 
people, they were accompanied by rope-dancing, tumbling, 
and similar performances. Afterward were introduced the 
pantomimes and buffoons, to which the Romans, like thfe 
degenerate Greeks, became so passionately attached, when 
the public taste and manners had become equally corrupt, 
that they superseded the more regular drama. There was 
ho fixed time for these exhibitions, any more than for those 
amphitheatrical shows which were given by the consuls 
and emperors to acquire popularity, and which consisted in 
the combats of men and animals. So numerous, however; 
were the games of stated occurrence, that we can do no 
more than briefly recapitulate the names of the most cele- 
brated. 

The Actian games, consecrated to Apollo in commemo- 
ration of the victory of Augustus over Mark Antony at Ac- 
tium, were held every third or fifth year with great pomp in 
the Roman stadium, and consisted of gymnastic sports, 
musical competitions, and horse-racing. In the reign of 
Tiberius were established the Ludi Augustales, in hohoui- 



GAMES OF THE ANCIENT tlOMANS. 7^ 

bf Augustus ; the first representation of which was dis- 
turbed by the breaking out of the quarrel between the come- 
dians and the buffoons, where rival factions so often subse- 
quently embroiled the theatrical representations. Livia 
established in honour of the same emperor the Palatine 
games, to which the Romans were perhaps more indebted 
than to any other, since their celebration afforded an oppor- 
tunity for the destruction of the monster Caligula. The 
Certamina Neronia were literary conipetitions established 
by the tyrant from whom they were named, who affected to 
be a patron as well as an adept in all the liberal arts. 
Among other prizes there was one for music, by which we 
are to understand poetry, since we are expressly told by 
Suetonius that Nero himself won the crown of poetry and 
'eloquence, none of his antagonists, probably, choosing to 
surpass so formidable an antagonist. Games upon various 
models were also founded in commemoration of Commodusj 
Adrian, Antoninus, and many other illustrious and infamous 
individuals ; while all the leading and many of the subor- 
dinate deities in the mythological army of the Pagans were 
honoured at stated periods by festivals and sacrifices, so 
that one almost wonders how the people could snatch 
sufficient time from the great business of pleasure and the 
public shows, to attend to the diurnal cares and pursuits 
of life. 

Besides these numerous festivities — for, though many of 
them professed to be religious ceremonies, they were essen- 
tially merrimakings and revels — there were the secular 
games, revived by Augustus, and celebrated only once in a 
hundred years. Every thing appertaining to these games 
was calculated to impress the superstitious mind with deep 
and solemn reverence. From the long interval between the 
celebrations none could have seen them before, none could 
ever hope to behold them again. Slaves and strangers were 
excluded from any participation in this great national fes- 
tival ; the mystic sacrifices to Pluto and Proserpine, to the 
Fates and to the Earth were performed at night on the banks 
of the Tiber ; the Campus Martins, which was illuminated 
with innumerable lamps and torches, resounded with music 
'and dancing, and the temples with the choral hymns of 
youths 'and virgins^> imploring the gods to preserve the virtue-, 



80 GAMES OF THE ANCIENT R0MAN8. 

the felicity, and the empire of the Roman people.* Whild 
these supplications were tendered, the statues of the deities 
were placed on cushions, where they were served with the 
most exquisite dainties. During the three days of the fes- 
tival three different pieces of music were performed, the 
scene being changed as well as the form of the entertain- 
ment. On the first, the people assembled in the Campus 
Martins ; on the second, in the Capitol ; the third, upon 
Mount Palatine. A full and beautiful description of these 
games is furnished by the Carmen Sseculare of Horace, 
who was appointed the laureate to celebrate their revival by 
Augustus, and whose ode, like those of Pindar upon the 
Olympic games, is all that now remains to us of the great 
and gorgeous spectacle that it commemorates. 

When the Romans became masters of the wond they 
accorded the right of stated public shows to such cities as 
required it ; the names of which places are preserved in 
the Arundel marbles and other ancient inscriptions. Games 
of all sorts — ^floral, funeral, Compitalian, and many others, 
as well as the numerous festivals in honour of deities, 
heroes, and men, were held in most of the provincial towns 
as well as in Rome itself; but as these closely resembled 
the religious ceremonies of the Greeks, from whom indeed 
they were chiefly borrowed, and as none of them equalled 
in celebrity or magnificence the Olympic games, of which 
we have already given a. description, we shall only now 
notice the amphitheatrical combats, which were exclusively 
practised by the Romans. 

As superstition and cruelty seem to be inseparable, we 
find the ignorance of early Paganism, and perhaps of all 
religions, except the Jewish and Christian, stained with 
the blood of human sacrifices, more especially in the funeral 
rites. Allusion has been made to the twelve noble Trojans 
thus slaughtered by Achilles, as recorded in Homer ; in 
Virgil also, the pious Eneas sends his prisoners to Evander 
that they may be immolated upon the funeral pile of his son 
Pallas. The Greeks, however, becoming more humanized 
as civilization advanced, not only discarded these barbarous 
practices, but even in their public games gradually sufl^ered 

*When the popish jubilees, the copy of the secular games, were 
invented by Boniface VIII., the crafty pope pretended that he only revived 
an ancient institution.— ^ee Gibbon's Decline and Fall, vol. i. chap. 7. 



GiJtfES OF THE ANCIENT ROMANS. 8l 

all such as were of a cruel and perilous nature to fall into 
desuetude ; thus exemplifying the dictum of Ovid, that the 
cultivation of the polite arts " emoUit mores, nee sinit esse 
feros." The Spartans, indeed, vsrho retained the ferocious 
sport of the caestus, after it had been interdicted by the other 
states, seem to have been in all ages the same heroical 
savages ; nor does it appear that time and comparative 
civilization ever extirpated, or even softened the blood- 
thirsty disposition and utter disregard of human life that 
were inherent in the Roman character. At a very early 
period of their annals we find them, in compliance with a 
Sibylline prediction, " that Gauls and Greeks should pos- 
sess the city," burying alive within the walls of Rome four 
persons, a man and a woman of each nation, in order that 
thus the prophecy might be fulfilled.* Similar or greater 
atrocities are of frequent occurrence in the history of those 
Sanguinary tormentors arid butchers of the world, who ap- 
pear to have been never happy unless they were shedding 
human blood in war, or slaughtering whole herds of animals 
as sacrifices to their gore-loving gods. So iuvincible was 
this propensity, that when there was no foreign enemy on 
whom to wreak their brutal ferocity, they could even delight 
in civil war, and in witnessirig the destruction of their 
fellow-citizens, of which a horrible example was afforded 
towards the commencement of the empire. The soldiers of 
Vespasian arid those of Vitellius fought a murderous battle 
in the Campus Martins, and the people who beheld the 
spectacle, alternately applauding the success of each party, 
gave themselves up to the extravagance of a barbarous joy.f 
That such a nation should be fierce and ruthless, even in 
their sports, was naturally to b^ expected ; to the Romans 
accordingly belongs the disgrace, if not of inventing, at 
least of adopting, enlarging, arid continuing, the gladiato- 
rial and animal combats of the amphitheatre. A supersti- 
tious conceit that the souls of deceased warriors delighted 
in human sacrifices, as if they were slain to satisfy their 
fevenge, originated and gave a sort of reUgious sanction to 
this cruel custom, which often proved fatal to prisoners of 
war. But as the inhumanity of such massacres became 
recognised, combats of captives and slaves were substituted 

* Plutarch, in vit. MarcCll. f Tacitus, iJist. lib. iu. cap. 83, 



82 GAMES OF THE ANCIENT ROMANS* 

at the funeral games, a practice which led the way to the 
subsequent introduction of regular gladiators, exhibited, not 
to appease the dead, but to amuse the living. Whether or not 
the Romans derived these cruel games from the ancient Etru- 
rians, as some have maintained, they eagerly seized every 
opportunity for their exhibition, even upon occasions 
when such hideous spectacles would have been peculiarly 
repugnant to the feelings of any other people upon earth. 
" The gladiatory shows," says an old historian,* "were ex- 
hibited by the Romans, not only at their public meetings, 
and on their theatres, but they used them at their feasts 
also."— 'The first public spectacle of the sort has been 
assigned to the Varronian year, 490, when the two Bruti 
caused three couples of gladiators to combat together in the 
ox-market, in honour of their deceased father ; from which 
period the multitude became so passionately attached to the 
sport, that the magistrates, and others who were desirous of 
advancement in the state, began to have them celebrated at 
their own charge, often promising them beforehand as dona- 
tives for their election. In the earliest times these com- 
bats generally took place before the sepulchres ; latterly 
they were celebrated in the squares or open places of the 
cities, in the surrounding porticoes of which the intercolum- 
niations were purposely made larger, that the view of the 
spectators might be the less obstructed. In the time of 
Polybius, towards the sixth age of Rome, the gladiatory 
employment was reduced to a regular art, admitting great 
variety of arms and combatants, as well as different modes 
of engaging. 

Combats of wild beasts were first exhibited in the 568th 
year of Rome, when Marcus Fulvius treated the people with 
a hunting of lions and panthers : but as luxury and riches in- 
creased, and the conquest of Africa and the East facilitated 
the supply of exotic animals, it soon became a contest with 
the ediles and others who should evince the greatest magni- 
ficence in the Circensian games, and construct the most 
sumptuous amphitheatres for their display. Csesar, how- 
ever, surpassed all his predecessors in the funeral shows 
which he celebrated in memory of his father ; for, not con- 

* Nicholaus Damascenus. Others, however, mahitain, that upon the 
latter occasions the weapons were guarded, and the fights simulated, 
not real. 



GLADIATORIAL GAMES. 83 

tent with supplying the vases and all the apparatus of the 
theatre with silver, he caused the arena to be paved with 
silver plates ; " so that," says Pliny, " wild beasts were for 
the first time seen walking and fighting upon this precious 
metal." This excessive expense on the part of Csesar was 
only commensurate with his ambition. Preceding ediles 
had simply sought the consulate ; Csesar aspired to empire, 
and was resolved, therefore, to eclipse all his competitors. 
Pompey the Great, on dedicating his theatre, produced, be- 
sides a rhinoceros and other strange beasts from Ethiopia, 
500 lions, 410 tigers, and a number of elephants, who were 
attacked by African men, the hunting being continued du- 
ring five days. Caesar, after the termination of the civil 
wars, divided his hunting-games into five days also ; in the 
first of which the camelopard was shown ; at last 500 men 
on foot, and 300 on horseback were made to fight, together 
with twenty elephants, and an equal number more with tur- 
rets on their backs, defended by sixty men. As to the 
number of gladiators, he surpassed every thing that had been 
seen before, having produced, when edile, as Plutarch tells 
us, no less than 320 couples of human combatants. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

Gladiatorial Games. 



" — This is the bloodiest shame, 
The Wildes: savagery, the vilest stroke 
That ever wall-eyed wrath or staring rage 
Presented to the tears of soft remorse." 

Shakspeare. 

We shall endeavour to give a succinct account of the pro- 
fessional gladiators, free from the elaborate display of erudi- 
tion with which the subject has been too often encumbered. 
— ^At first their exhibition was limited to the funeral pomps 
of the consuls and chief magistrates of the republic ; insen- 
sibly this privilege was extended to less distinguished 
individuals j private persons and even females stipulated for 



84 GLABIATORIAL GAMES. 

such combats in their wills ; the instruction of gladiators 
became a regular art ; they were trained, formed, and exer- 
cised under proper teachers, and at last they were con- 
verted into a sort of trade, individuals becoming masters and 
proprietors of bands of gladiators, with whom they travelled 
about the country, exhibiting them for money in the provin- 
cial towns, and at the local games. For tbe sake of diver? 
sity some fought in chariots, or on horseback, others con- 
tended with their eyes bandaged ; some had no offensive 
weapons, being only provided with a buckler ; others were 
armed from top to toe. Gladiators of one description were 
supplied with a sword, a poniard, and a cutlass ; while a 
second sort had two swords, two poniards, and two cutlasses. 
Some only fought in the morning, others in the afternoon ; 
each couple being distinguished by appropriate names, of 
which we shall give a list. 

1. The glaxhators called Secutores were armed with a 
sword, and a species of mace loaded with lead. 

2. The Thraces carried a species of scimitar, like that 
used by the Thracians. 

3. The Myrmillones were armed with a buckler, and a 
sort of scythe, and bore a fish upon the top of their hel- 
mets. The Romans had given them the nickname of Gauls. 

4. The Retiarii carried a trident in one hand and a net in 
the other ; they fought in a tunic and pursued the Myrmillo, 
crying out " I do not want you, Gaul, but your fish," — Non 
tepetOy Galle, sed piscem peto. 

5. The Hoplomachi, as their Greek name indicates, were 
3,rmed cap-a-pie. 

6. The Provocatores, adversaries of the Hoplomachi, were, 
like them, completely armed. 

7. The DimachcBri fought with a poniard in each hand. 

8. The Essedarii always combated in chariots. 

9. The Andabatcz fought on horseback, their eyes being 
.closed, either by a bandage or by a visor whi,ch fell down 
over the face. 

10. The Meridiani were thus named because they entered 
the arena towards noon ; they fought with a sword against 
others of the same class. 

11. The Bestiarii were professed gladiators or bravoes, 
who combated with wild beasts, to display their cou^ag^ 
(and address, like th,e modern bull-fighters of Spain. 



GLADIATORIAL GAMES. 85 

12. The Fiscales, Ccesariani, or Postulati, were gladiators 
kept at the expense of the pubUc treasury, as their first title 
imports. They took the name of Ccesariani because they 
were reserved for those games of which the emperors were 
spectators ; and of Postulati because, as they were the 
bravest and most skilful of all the combatants, they were 
the most frequently called for by the people. 

The Catervarii were gladiators drawn from all the differ- 
ent classes to fight in troops, many against many. 

The Samnites, so called because they were dressed in the 
manner of that nation, were generally employed at feasts 
and entertainments, to display their skill and agility in rnock 
engagements, and did not use murderous weapons. 

From this appalling list it will be seen that no circum- 
stance was neglected that could add to the horror of the 
combats, and gratify the cold-blooded cruelty of the specta- 
jtors by every possible refinement in barbarity. Not only 
was art exhausted, and every incentive applied to perfect 
the skill and anima'^e the courage of the unhappy victims, 
so that they might die becomingly ; but the utmost ingenuity 
was employed in varying and rendering more terrible the 
piurderous weapons with which they were to butcher one 
another. It was not by chance that a Thracian gladiator 
was opposed to a Secutor, or that a Retiarius was armed in 
pne way and the Myrmillo in another ; they were purposely 
combined in a manner most likely to protract the fight, ancj 
make it more sanguinary. By varying the arms it was pro- 
posed to diversify the mode of their death ; they were fed 
upon barley cakes and other fattening aliments, in order 
that the blood might flow slowly from their wounds, and that 
the spectators might enjoy as long as possible the sight of 
their dying agonies. 

Let it not be imagined that these spectators were the 
refuse of the people ; the most distinguished orders of the 
state delighted in these cruel amusements, even the Vestal 
virgins being placed with great ceremony in the front row 
of the amphitheatre. It is amusing to read the poetical 
description which Prudentius has drawn of that vestal 
modesty which, while it covered their face with blushes, found 
a secret delight in the hideous conflicts of the arena ; — of 
those downcast looks that were greedy of wounds and 
death ; — of those sensitive souls who fainted away at the 
H 



86 GLADIATORIAL GAMES. 

sight of blood and blows, yet always recovered when the 
knife was about to be plunged into the throat of the sufferer j 
• — of the compassion of those timid virgins who themselves 
gave the fatal signal that decided the death of the blood- 
streaming gladiator : — 



■Pectusque jacentis 



Virgo modesta jubet, converso poUice, rumpi, 
Ne lateat pars ulla animae viialibus imis, 
Altiiis impresso dum palpitat ense Secutor. 

That some pleasure might be derived by a warlike people 
from contemplating the skill and courage of the combatants, 
especially where they could reward the display of those 
qualities by giving the parties their liberty, we can easily 
understand ; but to cut off even this poor solitary excuse,-^ 
to furnish blinded men with weapons, and then set them on 
to butcher one another in the dark, was an act of ruthless 
atrocity that could only have originated in a brutal appetite 
for blood. Cicero approved of gladiatorial exhibitions, so 
long as none but criminals were the combatants. Pliny the 
younger was of opinion that such kind of shows were 
proper to inspire fortitude, and make men despise wounds 
and death, by showing that even the lowest rank of man^ 
kind were ambitious of victory and piaise ; but surely the 
spectacle of blind combatants could confirm nothing but 
the cowardice and inhumanity from which it sprang ; nor 
can men be familiarized to the sight of violence and blood, 
without being tempted to imitate that which they see a 
whole people applaud. 

The masters and teachers of the gladiators were termed 
LanistcR, to whom were committed the prisoners, criminals, 
and guilty slaves, that they might be instructed in their 
horrible art, and fitted for public slaughter. Freemen, how- 
ever, sometimes voluntarily hired themselves to the service 
of the arena, the master making them previously swear 
that they would fight even to death. Application being 
made to these Lanisi<z when gladiatorial shows were desired, 
they furnished for a stated price the number of pairs, and 
of the different classes that might be wanted. Some of the 
leading persons of the state, and among others Julius Csesar, 
kept gladiators of their own, as a part of their regular 
establishments. The Emperor Claudius wished to limit the 



GLADIATORIAL GAMES. 87 

number of these cruel spectacles, but the popular appetite 
for blood had now been confirmed by long indulgence, and 
he was soon after obliged to annul his own ordinance. 

Some time before the day of engagement, the president 
of the games announced by handbills, or occasionally by a 
picture of the intended engagement, exposed in some pub- 
lic place, the number and quality of the gladiators, as well 
as their names and the marks by which they were distin- 
guished — for each assumed a particular badge, such as the 
feathers of the peacock, or some other bird. On the morn- 
ing of the spectacle they began by fencing and skinnishing, 
as a sort of prelude, with wooden foils and staves, after which 
th6y arined themselves with real weapons of all sorts, and 
proceeded to action. The first blood drawn produced a cry 
of "He is wounded ;" and if at the same time the wounded 
party lowered his arms, it AVas considered as an acknow- 
ledgment of his defeat. His life, however, depended on the 
spectators, or on the president of the games ; but if at this 
moment the emperor happened to arrive, the gladiator was 
spared as an act of grace, sometimes unconditionally, some- 
times with the understanding that if he should recover from 
his wounds, he was not to be exempted from future com- 
bats. In the ordinary course of things, it was the people 
who decided upon the life and death of the wounded com- 
batant ; if he had conducted himself with skill and courage, 
his pardon was almost always granted ; but if he had be- 
trayed any cowardice in the engagement, his death-warrant 
was generally pronounced. In the former case, the people 
displayed the hand with the thumb doubled under the 
fingers ; in the latter they extended the hand with the thumb 
raised, and pointed towards the bleeding wretch, who so 
well understood the fatal nature of this signal, that he 
Was accustomed as soon as he perceived it to present his 
throat to the adversary, in order to receive the mortal 
thrust. 

Every gladiator who had served three years in the arena 
was entitled to his dismissal ; a privilege sometimes granted 
to him by the people, upon any extraordinary display of 
valour and address, even although he had not served the 
stipulated period. The reward of a victorious gladiator 
was a palm, and a sum of money, sometimes of consider- 
able amount. To obtain absolute freedom, they must have 



88 GLADIATORIAL GAMES. 

been many times victors ; though latterly it became common 
to grant them emancipation when they achieved their ex- 
emption from the service of the arena. Severe regulations, 
however, became necessary to protect them from the fraud 
and avarice of the ruffianly Lanistce, or masters, who often 
made them fight again in other places, after they had earned 
their dismissal. They who had received their freedom wore, 
as an honorary testimony of their courage, a garland or 
crown of flowers, and entwined with woollen ribands, the 
ends of which hung down upon the shoulders. Strange 
as it may appear, these men had contracted such a passion 
for their murderous trade, that they returned voluntarily to 
the arena, and as amateur gladiators exposed themselves to 
all the perils from which they had just escaped. If they 
abandoned for ever the gladiatorial profession, they dedi- 
cated their arms to Hercules, their tutelary deity, by hang- 
ing them up at the gate of his temple. 

Nero compelled a great number of equestrians and sena- 
tors to fight in the arena, both against one another a-nd 
with wild beasts. The Emperor Commodus exhibited in 
his own person the gladiatorial art, the rage for which finally 
became so ungovernable that not only did men of rank spon- 
taneously minglie in the infambus combats of the arena, but 
even Avomen so far forgot their sex and all regard to com- 
mon decency as to fight with one another before the assem- 
bled populace of Rome. Let this vilifying eflfect of the 
gladiatorial shows be adduced as a signal refutation of every 
modern Pliny who would maintain that the pubHc mind de- 
rives a proper hardihood and manly courage from an indul- 
gence in cruel and barbarous sports. Ferocity is quite 
compatible with cowardice and siervility — for these very 
Romans were the most abjeCt of slaves. 

After the establishment of Christianity, and the removal 
of the seat of empire to Byzantium, a greater amenity was 
introduced into the habits and manners of society ; but it 
does not appear, although a crowd of writers have made 
the assertion, that Constahtine abolished the gladiatorial 
shows. His ordinance dated at Berytus, in Phenicia, the first 
of October, 325, only directs that the condemned criminals, 
instead of being employed in the arena, should be sent to 
the mines. The Emperors Honorius and Arcadius tried to 
abolish these horrible games in the West, but they only 



an 



/^ 







\ 



^~A-^ 






,- , fi)} 







•x^^ 
^''^•'^. 



■C 




GLADIATORIAL GAMES. 89 

finally terminated with the Roman empire itself, when it was 
extinguished by the invasion of Theodric, king of the Goths, 
about the year 493 of J. C* 

A singular and most curious modem discovery en- 
ables us to give the reader a more correct notion of the 
combats of the arena, both gladiatorial and animal, than 
could be furnished by any description however elaborate. 
Among the tombs, which are by far the most perfect of all 
the remains disinterred, of Pompeii was found one covered 
with bas-reliefs in stucco, presenting minute details of the 
samphitheatrical games and combats. At a small distance 
•from this monument was found the marble tablet that had 
fallen from it, containing an inscription, which has been 
thus rendered : " To Aricius Scaurus, the son of Aulus, of 
the tribe Menenia, Justicial Duumvir, to whom the Decu- 
rions have granted the site of this monument, two thousand 
sestercesf for his funeral, and an equestrian statue in the 
forum. Scaurus, the father, to his son." 

Beneath the inscription, on the steps of the cippus, are 
^still to be seen some fragments of bas-reliefs in stucco, of 
which M. Mazois, from whose splendid work we have taken 
the annexed engraving and its explanations, has selected 
such as serve best to illustrate the huntings and animal 
combats, or Veriationes o[ the Romans. The first {fig. I) 
shows a man exposed without defence between a lion 
and a panther ; in the second {fig. 2) a wild boar is rush- 
ing upon a naked man, already overthrown. It has been 
conjectured that these defenceless Bcstiarii, trusting to 
•their agility for their escape, were employed purposely 
•to irritate the wild beasts, and, as soon as they were pur- 
sued, saved themselves in some place of retreat, as is still 
practised in the continental bull-fights. The figures in fact 
exhibit no sign of alarm, even the man opposed to the wild 
boar appearing to have taken an attitude that would enable 
him to start up instantly, when the danger became immi- 
nent. In the same bas-relief is a wolf pierced by a dart, 

* See the Diclionnaire Classique of M. Sabbaihier, art. Gladiateur, 
from which parts of this chapter have been translated. 

t About ibl. ; but it has been conjectured that there might have been 
another cipher on the missmg piece, -which •would make the amount 
about in, a sum still too moderate to pay for the funeral games, 
although it might suffice for the pyre, the vases, and the hire of the 
usual attendants. 

H2 




■S 5r(n>s!rl!pjS)ni 



' r.H: j'iMi.,/u.;- .'■j-.r.i.'jci/v 



90 GLADIATORIAL GAMES. 

Which he gnaws as he runs. Beyond him is a roebuck^ 
attacked by other wolves or dogs, the traces of the rope by 
which it had been tied being still distinguishable. The 
third figure is extremely carious, as showing the way in 
which the young Bestiarius was familiarized to the sight 
and the roaring of the wild beasts, as well as the manner ill 
which they were taught to encounter them. By means of 
a collar and rope the panther is fastened to the girth that 
cinctures an enormous bull, an ingenious contrivance, whichj 
giving a partial liberty to the animal, renders the combat 
inuch more equal and interesting than if it were tied to any 
fixed point. Behind the bull is another Bestiarius, who 
feeems to be goading it on, that the panther may have a 
greater length of tether for engaging its assailant. In the 
fourth figure a man attacks a bear with a sword in one hand 
and a veil in the other, from which latter circumstance (the 
veil being a recent introduction), we are enabled with some 
plausibility to fix the epoch of the games given at the 
funeral of Scaurus to the latter years of the reign of Clau- 
dius, or the beginning of that of Nero, when the passioii 
for these exhibitions was at its height. 

The bas-reliefs of the base, also executed in stucco, are 
divided into two zones, the figures being attached to thd 
plaster as is still practised, by pins of bronze or iron ; but 
the latter, which are unfortunately the most numerous, 
having become oxidated, have accelerated the decomposi- 
tion of that which they were intended to preserve. Pre- 
viously to the disaster that destroyed Pompeii, in the year 
79, this tomb seems to have already suffered, since under 
most of the actual figures we find others of an infinitely 
better and more graceful workmanship, and sometimes 
tirmed in a different manner. From the following inscrip- 
tion on one of the walls of Pompeii, we learn that the same 
troop of gladiators, beloiiging to Numerius Festus Ampli- 
atus, which fought at the funeral of Scaurus, exhibited a 
second time in the amphitheatre, the 16th of the calendar 
of June. 

N. FESrr. AMPLIATI. 

FAMILIA. GLADIATbRIA. PUGNA. ITERUM 

PUGNA; XVI. IVN. VENAT. VELA. 

'" The troop of gMiators of Numerius Festus Ampliatus 



GLADIATORIAL GAMES. 9l 

Will fight, for the second time, 16th June. Combat, chases, 
awnings" (in the amphitheatre). 

The names of the combatants, the number of their vic- 
tories, and even their condemnation, are written above the 
figures, as well as the name of the proprietor of the troop 
{see the upper part of the plate). In the first zone (fig. 5) 
we distinguish eight couples of combatants. The first pair, 
beginning at the left, presents two equestrian gladiators. 
The first is named Bebrix, a barbarous word, which seems 
lo announce a foreign origin ; he has already conquered in 
several other engagements ; the numerals appear to repre- 
sent XII., but they are partly obliterated. His adversary 
beats the name of Nobilior, and reckons eleven victories. 
Each is armed with a light lance, a round shield elegantly 
ornamented, and a bronze helmet with a visor, entirely 
iovering the face, like those of our ancient knights. The 
leg and thigh are naked. Behrix has shoes, such as are now 
worn : Nobilior has a species of half-boot tied round the legi 
The former has made a thrust with his lance, which the 
latter has parried, and is charging his antagonist. 

The next group consists of two gladiators whose ndmes 
are effaced. In the first light- armed figure we recognise 
bne of the Velites, and in the other a Samnite. The fortiier^ 
sixteen times victor in former games, has at length en^^ 
countered a more fortunate or more skilful combatant than 
himself. Wounded in the breast, he has lowered his buckler 
in confession of his defeat, and raised his finger towards the 
people, for it was thus that the gladiators implored mercy. 
Behind him the Samnite awaits the answer of the spec- 
tators, ready to spare or to despatch him according to their 
orders. 

In the third pair we behold the combat of a Thracian and 
a Myrmillo. The swords have niostly disappeared, or were 
never sculptured by the artist, otherwise the former would 
have been represented with a crooked scimitar. We do not 
find on the helmet of the Myrmillo the fish with which they 
were accustomed to adorn their crest ; but he is character- 
ized by his Gaulish arms, whence the whole class acquired 
their nickname, and we may perceive at his foot the Gaulish 
half-pike, which he has thrown away at thfe moment of his 
defeat. Although conqueror upon fifteen other occasions, 



&2 GLADIATORIAL GAMEg. 

he is at length defeated, and the Thracian, his advers&TJ, 
gains a thirty-fifth victory. The Myrmillo, wounded in the 
breast, implores the clemency of the people ; but the lettet 
theta, placed at the end of the inscription above him, an- 
nounces that he w^as put to death.* 

The four following persons, consisting of two Secutores 
and two Reiiarii, offer a still more cruel spectacle. Nepimu$, 
a Retiarius, five times victorious, has fought with a Secutor, 
whose name is effaced ; but who was no unworthy adver- 
sary, since he had triumphed six times in different engage- 
ments. On the present occasion he has been less fortunate. 
Nepimus has struck him on the leg, the thigh, the left arm, 
and the right side, from all of which the blood flows: in 
vain has he implored mercy ; the spectators have condemned 
hun to death ! But as the trident is not a proper weapon 
for inflicting a sure and speedy death, it is the Secutor Hip' 
folytus who renders to his comrade this last service. The 
wretched victim bends his knee, and throws himself upon 
the fatal sword, while Nepimus, his conqueror, spurns him 
.with his foot and hand, as if he were ferociously insulting 
him in his last moments. In the distance is seen th'e 
-Retiarius who is to fight against Hippolytus. The armour 
of the Secutores was light, for nothing but their agility 
.could afford them a chance of escape and victory. On the 
head of the Retiarii we perceive no other defence than a 
bandage : the nets with which they sought to entangle their 
adversaries are not apparent. This portion of the bas- 
jelief is terminated by the combat of a Velite and a Samnite. 
The latter implores the spectators to grant him his dis- 
missal, which apparently is refused ; his adversary looks 
towards the steps of the amphitheatre ; he has seen the fatal 
signal, and seems preparing to strike. 

Figure 6 forms part of the upper zone, from which, how- 
ever, it is separated by the pilasters of the gate. In the first 
combat a Samnite has been conquered by a Myrmillo, who 
wishes to immolate his antagonist without waiting the de- 
cision of the peo^te, to whom the latter has appealed ; but 
the Lanista or master of the gladiators restrains his fury. 
The .'lext pair offers a similar combat, in which the Myr- 

* M. Millfn, in describing this tomb, proves from several aulhoritieai 
'that the B was thus placed, because it was the initial of the word Qavbiir 
i-^yiiig. 



GLADIATORIAL GAMES. 93 

millo, having received his death- wound, is falling stiiFened 
to the ground. 

A less inhuman, but not less sanguinary, spectacle forms 
the subject of the lower zone {fig. 7). In the upper portion 
we see a dog chasing hares, a timid animal that would seem 
scarcely worthy the honour of the circus ; but the cruelty 
of the Romans was ingenious, and by some of Martial's 
epigrams (lib. i. epig. 15, 23, 53 j 71) we know that in 
certain games hares and lions were turned into the arena at 
the same time. Further on a wounded stag is pursued by 
dogs. In the lower part a wild boar is seized by a formi- 
dable dog, who has already torn its flank. In the middle of 
the composition a Bestidrius overthrows a bear by a thrust 
of his lance. The second Bestiarius has driven his enormous 
spear entirely through a bull, whoj though he still flies, turns 
his head as if he woiild renew the attack upon his adver- 
sary. The latter testifies the greatest surprise at the inefSi- 
cacy of this terrible wound, and at finding himself disarmed, 
and in the power of the infuriated animal. 

In dismissing this subject we may remark, in proof of the 
inordinate extent to which the appetite for human blood was 
finally carried by the Romans, that, according to Josephus, 
seven hundred Jewish prisoners of war were at one time 
set to fight in the arena. Among other imperial freaksj 
" Caligula took sometimes dehght, when the sun was most 
intensely hot, to order the covering of the amphitheatre to 
be drawn back, and removed of a sudden ; prohibiting any 
one whomsoever from going away from his place."* Nor 
did the spectators always escape so cheaply, for, upon one 
occasion, there being no more condemned criminals, he 
ordered several lookers-on of the lower rank to be seized 
and thrown to the wild beasts. Of the invincible attach- 
ment of the Romans to these games we may form some 
opinion from the following circumstance, related by Theo- 
doret in his Ecclesiastical History : " A certain person 
called Telemachus, by profession a monk, who came from 
the East, happened on some solemn day to go into the 
amphitheatre, where he used his utmost endeavours to 
hinder the combatants from fighting. This unexpected 
incident so enraged the spectators, that without further ado 

* Maffei on Amphitheatres. 



94 GLADIATORIAL GAMES. 

they rushed upon him, and tdrfe hitn to pieces ; for which, 
says our author (and Sozomen also relates the same), the 
RoiiiaUS werfe for the first time forbidden such games."* It 
appears to have been only a temporary interdiction, and to 
have occurred in the reign of Constantine. There is no 
mention of games of any sort after the sixth century, at 
which time the great amphitheatre of Titus was abandoned 
to the Spoliations of manj and the dilapidation of time and 
the elements. This enormous pile, which from its vast 
proportions and marvellous height well merited the name of 
the Colosseum, t contained, according to Publius Victor, 
feighty-seven thousand places ; it was small, however, com- 
pared with the prodigious extent of the Circus Maximus of 
Caesar, the great length of which, stretching out to three- 
eighths of a mile, enabled it, says Pliny, to accommodate 
two hundred and forty thousand spectators. As illustrating 
the combined superstition and rudeness of the Roman char- 
acter, we may mention, before we quit the subject of their 
amphitheatres, that while the lowest and best seats were 
reserved for the Vestal virgins, and the ladies of the impe- 
rial family, all other females were obliged to toil up to the 
top of the theatre, where they were not only surrounded by 
the plebeians and the rabble, but could hear nothing and 
see little of what was going forward in the arena below. 

* Maffei on Amphitheatres, cap. 6. 

t That the amphitheatre took its title from its magnitude, and not 
from the Colossus of Nero in its vicinity, is satisfactorily establislieii by 
Maffei, cap. 4. 



MODERN FESTIVALS, GAMES, ETC. 95 



CHAPTER IX. 

Modern Festivals, Games, and Amusements. — Historical 
Retrospect. 

" And oft, conducted by historic truth, 
•We tread the long extent of backward time." 



Under this head we shall chiefly confine ourselves to the 
festivals, games, and pastimes of our own island ; not only 
as being better adapted to a volume of this Library, but 
because there are few continental sports of which we do not 
find some professed imitation or casual resemblance among 
ourselves. 

Human nature is the same in all parts of the earth : th 
recreations of a rude and illiterate nation must be inevitably 
limited to sensual and external gratifications ; however, 
therefore, they may be modified by climate and manners, 
they must in their main qualities, at least in the earlier 
stages of civilization, present a considerable degree of simi- 
larity. Nothing, moreover, is so difficult to control as 
popular customs, which, when they have reference to the 
enjoyments of the lower orders, are considered as their 
peculiar, often their sole privilege, and aye retained with a 
proportionate obstinacy. We have seen for how many cen- 
turies the Pagan games survived the daities in whose honour 
they were first instituted. More willing to surrender their 
antiquated religion than the amusement^ connected with it, 
the heathen people coul,d only be won to Christianity by 
a compromise which enabled them to incorporate with the 
new faith many of the festivals and pastimes of Paganism. 
These took other names indeed ; they were baptized afresh, 
and consecrated to saints and martyrs, instead of demigods 
and heroes ; but the multitude cared little about the form 
and title, provided they got the essence, which, according 
to their estimation, consisted in the holyday and its festivfj 
or processional concomitants. Exactly the same thing 
pccurred at the second great religious change — the Reforma,' 



96 MODERN FESTIVALS, GAMES, ETC. 

tion, when we adopted many of the stated festivals and 
holydays, although we uncanonized the saints and martyrs 
in whom they originated. Of all religions, that part seems 
to endure the longest which is associated with the pleasures 
of the people ; no mean argument for making cheerfulness 
and enjoyment constituents of our devotional observances, 
instead of seeking to dissever them. In a review of such 
festivals, sports, and holydays as still exist among us, it will 
be found that some are originally derived from the Pagans, 
others from the Papists : we are not aware of any that can 
be strictly termed modern. 

What were the amusements and stated relaxations from 
labour enjoyed by the ancient inhabitants of Britain, we 
have no means of ascertaining ; but we know that their 
religion, like that of the early Greeks and Romans, was a 
savage superstition, delighting in human sacrifices ; and 
we may therefore conclude that their sports and games, 
whether emanating from it or not, were of an equally feror 
cious character. Deficiency in feasts and merrimakingSj 
however, cannot be imputed to any of the old Celtic na- 
tions, though the convivial scene wag not unfrequently disf 
graced by Lapithsean strife. It was at a feast that the twq 
illustrious British princes, Cairbar and Oscar, quarrelle4 
about their own bravery and that of their ancestors, and 
fell by mutual wounds, probably when under the influence 
of deep potations. Before the general introduction of agri-r 
culture, mead seems to have been the only strong liquor known 
to the inhabitants of our island ; and it continued to be a fa- 
vourite beverage even after others had been introduced. The 
mead-maker was the eleventh person in dignity in the court 
of the ancient princes of Wales, and took place of the phy- 
sician. How much this liquor was esteemed by the Brit- 
ish princes may be gathered from the following law of the 
principality : " There are three things in the court which 
must be communicated to the king before any other person ; 
1, Every sentence of the judge ; 2. Every new song ; and 
3. Every cask of m.ead." The joys of song and the music 
of the harp were the accompaniments of the feast, the 
bards usually celebrating the brave actions of the guests, 
pr the exploits of their ancestors. 

Imitation of the Roman conquerors, and a partial adop- 
tion of their Paganism, doubtless introduced for a time 



HISTORICAL RETROSPECT. 97 

many of the classical pastimes and holydays, which were 
not entirely swept away when the Saxon conquest effected 
a total change in the laws and government of the country. 
Hunting and other robust exercises might have been the 
chief, but they were not the sole diversions of the con^ 
querors, who had by this time become sufficiently advanced 
in civilization to derive pleasure from intellectual amuse-- 
ments. A northern hero, whose name was Kolson, boasts 
of nine accomplishments in which he was well skilled. " I 
know," says he, " how to play at chess ; I can engrave 
Runic letters ; I am expert at my book ; I know how to 
handle the tools of the smith ; I can traverse the snow on 
skates of wood ; I excel in shooting with the bow ; I use the 
oar with facility ; I can sing to the harp ; and I compose 
verses."* This might be termed a liberal education for 
the times in which he lived ; but Kolson had made a pil-. 
grimage to the Holy Land, which may probably account, in 
great measure, for his literary qualifications. Learning 
does not by any means appear to have formed an indis- 
pensable part even of a nobleman's education, under the 
Saxon government. Alfred, it is well known, was twelve 
years of age before he acquired his letters. 

In a turbulent and warlike age the qualities of the body 
will always be more highly valued than those of the mind ; 
for as strength and courage are then the sole means of 
achieving fortune and distinction, or of preserving them 
when won, the opulent will naturally prefer, even in their 
relaxations, such robust exercises as either bear a direct 
semblance of war, or qualify them to endure its fatigues 
and hardships. Where might so often constituted righty 
every man was obliged to learn, as the most essential of all 
arts, that of defending himself and his possessions against 
the evil designs of his neighbour. Until peace was of fre- 
quent intervention, and law, becoming paramount, relieved 
individuals from this incessant duty of watch and ward, 
learning was considered as an unsoldierly if not an ignoble 
pursuit, and was willingly abandoned to the inmates of 
the cloister. Of inferior pastimes, however, the Saxons 
appear to have had their share. From their German 
ancestors they had inherited an immoderate attachment to 



k 



♦ OUaas, as qtioted in Strutt's Sports and Pastimes, int. iU, 



98 MODERN FESTIVALS, GAMES, ETC. 

gaming — that only vice which seems to exercise an equal 
influence over the most barbarous and the most civilized 
nations, as if it were an inherent and ineradicable ten- 
dency of the human mind. After dice, chess and back- 
gammon appear to have been the most favourite sedentary 
amusements of the Saxons and Danes, and to have occa- 
sionally occupied a large portion of the night. Bishop 
^theric, having obtained admission to Canute about mid- 
night, upon some urgent business, found the king engaged 
with his courtiers at play, some at dice, and some at chess. 
The clergy, however, were prohibited from playing at games 
of chance by the ecclesiastical canons established in the 
reign of Edgar. 

Christianity, upon its introduction into our island, not 
only brought with it the cheering Sabbath, the most pre- 
cious boon that religion has ever bestowed upon man, but 
numerous holydays and festivals, fixed or fluctuating. Of 
these we are bound by the nature of our work to give some 
account, although we shall render it as succinct as possible, 
since the subject must be already familiar to the mass of 
our readers. The immoveable feasts of the church are 
those constantly celebrated on the same day of the year ; 
the principal of which are Christmas-day, the Circumcision, 
Epiphany, Candlemas, Lady-day, All Saints, and All 
Souls, besides the days of the several apostles. Of the 
moveable feasts, which are not confined to a particular day, 
the principal is Easter, which gives law to all the rest, all 
of them following and keeping their stated distances from 
it ; such as Palm Sunday, Good Friday, Ash Wednesday, 
Sexagesima, Ascension Day, Pentecost, and Trinity Sun- 
day. Some of these feasts were instituted in the very 
earliest ages of Christianity. That of the Circumcision, 
however, is not more ancient than the seventh century. 
The Purification, the Annunciation, and the Assumption 
were first observed in the sixth ; Ash Wednesday in the 
eleventh: the feast of the Trinity began to be kept in 
some of the German and Italian churches about the tenth 
or eleventh century ; it was not, however, till the fourteenth 
and fifteenth that it was generally adapted. Towards the 
ninth, the feast of the Nativity was established ; that of 
the Conception dates from the thirteenth, and was confirmed 
hy the Gpuncil of Basle in 1439. Pope Gregory ly., abou^ 



HISTORICAL RETROSPECT. 99 

the year 840, assigned the feast of All Saints to the 1st of 
November ; that of All Souls originated in the thirteenth 
century. To these must be added the vigils, or wakes, 
local feasts in remembrance of the dedication of particular 
churches. Towards the conclusion of the fourth century 
there began to be a prodigious increase in the number of 
feast-days, occasioned by the discovery of the remains of 
martyrs and of holy men, for whose commemoration they 
were established. Many of these were instituted on a 
Pagan model, and abused in indolence, voluptuousness, and 
criminal practices, if we judge them by modern notions of 
morality. Perhaps, however, they might be partly expe- 
dient to wean from Paganism a rude untutored people, who 
could neither have understood nor relished a purely spiritual 
and abstract religion, and to whose senses and enjoyments, 
therefore, it became necessary to appeal in the first instance, 
as the sole means of ultimately convincing their reason. 
Candlemas, for instance, at which feast the hghted tapers 
that had received the benediction were carried in procession, 
was instituted by Pope Gelasius, in 492, to oppose the 
Lupercalia of the Pagans. On this point we have the fol- 
lowing authority of the Venerable Bede : " The church has 
happily changed the Pagan lustrations around the fields, 
which took place in the month of February, into proces- 
sions in which lighted candles are borne, in memory of that 
divine light with which Jesus Christ has illuminated the 
world, and which occasioned him to be called by Simeon 
the light for the revelation of th6 Gentiles." Others, how- 
iever, maintain that Candlemas was a substitute for the 
feast of Proserpine, which the Pagans celebrated with lighted 
torches towards the beginning of February. Many church 
festivals are doubtless to be traced to the same origin. 
" Christian, or rather Papal, Rome," says Brand,* " has 
borrowed her rites, notions, and ceremonies, even in the most 
luxuriant abundance, from ancient and modem Rome ; much 
the greater number of those flaunting externals which infal- 
libility has adopted by way of feathers, to adorn the triple cap, 
having been stolen out of the wings of the dying eagle." 

Feasts, processions, shows, spectacles, mysteries, mo- 
iralities, mummeries, and all the pride, pomp, and circum^ 

* Popular Antiquities, Preface. 



100 MODERN FESTIVALS, GAMES, ETC. 

Stance of Worship, which have probably exercised a bene* 
ficial influence in winning or attaching to religion the 
iUiterate people among whom they were first instituted and 
practised, are generally modified or dl^opped as advanced 
civilization and knowledge render them unnecessary. The 
essentials oi religion always remain the same ; but in this, 
as in every other mstitution, we must vary and adapt ex- 
ternal forms to the state of general information, and the 
influences of public opinion. Whatever may have been 
the original cause of their institution, the number of feasts 
and holydays in the ancient Romish church, added to the 
Sabbaths, must have afforded to the labouring classes as 
many, and perhaps more, respites from labour than they 
had enjoyed in the Pagan times ; while the pomps, proces-' 
sions, and shows of the new faith became indispensable 
substitutes, at least in the estimation of the vulgar, for the 
heathen spectacles and celebrations which they superseded. 

The Norman conquest effected two marked changes in 
the sports and pastimes prevalent at the close of the Saxon 
era, by restricting the privileges of the chase, and first 
establishing those barbarous game-laws, the imposition of 
which was one of the greatest insults of tyranny, while 
their maintenance, in scarcely mitigated severity, at the 
present enlightened era, cannot be otherwise designated 
than as a monstrous oppression upon the lower orders, and a 
flagrant outrage offered to the spirit of the times. "VVTien 
these laws were first passed, it might have been felt as 
some mitigation of their enormity, that they were enacted 
by a foreign despot, in right of conquest, and by virtue of 
the sword, which was then paramount over all legislation ,* 
but it must aggravate the bitterness of their present tyranny 
to know that these sanguinary statutes are upheld, and 
even made more terrible by those who ought naturally to 
be the protectors, and not the imprisoners and persecutors 
unto death of their poorer fellow-countrymen. The second 
notable change in our pastimes, occasioned by the advent 
of the Normans, was the introduction of tournaments and 
jousts, together with all the pomps, gallantries, and ob- 
servances of chivalry, which, although they all bore the 
visible impress of war, were decidedly civilizing, and even 
ennobling, in their general tendency. 

All good and faithful linights swore by the symbolical 



HISTORICAL RETROSPECT. 101 

cross on the pummel of their swords to be the stanch 
champions of Christianity, which now, fdr the first time, 
began to exercise a marked influence upon the usages of 
war ; at once exalting that courage which had previously- 
been a brutal impulse into a noble principle, and tempering 
it with generosity, mercy, and forbearance : while the ro- 
mantic deference for the weaker sex, which forms such a 
distinguishing characteristic of chivalry, polished and com- 
pleted the manners of the cavalier, by adding suavity and 
gentleness to his other accompUshinents. Nor were per- 
sonal comeliness, strength, and agility, together with perfect 
horsemanship, and adroitness in all martial exercises, the 
sole qualifications he was expected to possess : to invin- 
cible courage and a strict regard for Veracity, it was 
requisite that he should add graceful daticirtg and a compe- 
tent knowledge of music. Hunting and hawking were 
also acquirements that he was obliged to possess as soon 
as he had strength ienough to practise them. Of Sir Tris- 
tram, who is held forth as the mirror of chivalry in the ro- 
mance of " The Death of Arthur," wfe are told that he had 
not only acquired the language of France, and all the rules 
of courtly behaviour, but " in harping and on instruments 
of music he applied himself in his youth for to leame ; and 
after, as he growed in might arid strength, he laboured ever 
in hunting and hawking." Another ancient romaiice says 
of its hero, " He every day was proVyd in dancing and in 
songs that the ladies could think were convenable for a 
nobleman to conne. The king for to assay him made justs 
and turnies ; and no man did so well as he in runnyng, 
playing at the paume,* shotyng, and casting of the barre, 
nor found he his maister;" Reading might perhaps be im- 
plied, but it is not expressly mentioned as an essential 
accomplishment. It is evident, however, that under the 
ennobling influences of chivalry and of female society, the 
mind began to be cultivated as well as the powers of the 
body ; and that the manners of the Saxon times were im- 
proved by an infusion of incipient politeness and urbanity. 
Where these qualities distinguish the upper classes, fashion 
will soon make them penetrate, at least partially, into the 
lower : we find accordingly that the sons of citizens and 

* Hand-tennis. 
12 



102 MODERN FESTIVALS, GAMES, ETC. 

yeomen and more especially the young Londoners^ afT^eted 
in all their sports and pastimes an imitation of the martial 
exercises and usages of chivalry. They fought with clubs 
and bucklers ; they practised running at the quintain ; and 
when the frost set in, they would go upon the ice, and tilt 
at one another with poles, in imitation of lances in a joust : 
rude pastimes it must be confessed, but as they were doubt- 
less accompanied with the strict regard to honour and 
fairness, as well as with the generosity and forbearance 
that characterized the exercises of chivalry from which they 
were copied, they could not fail to have a beneficiial effect 
upon popular manners. 

When chivalry lost its primitive spirit, and the romantic 
enthusiasm which had distinguished the middle ages begall 
to decline, a marked change occurred in the education of 
the nobility, the mind receiving a more attentive cultivation, 
and gentler pastimes or sedentary amusements coming into 
vogue ; while bodily exercises and the exertions of tnus- 
cular strength were abandoned to the vulgar. This ialtera- 
tion soon began to exercise its influence upon the inferior 
classes, who gradually discontinued the sports that had 
sprung up from an imitation of the jousts and tournaments, 
and who, though they had not the means, nor perhaps the 
inclination, to imitate their betters in mental culture, readily 
aped them in theit vices, resorting to games and recreations 
that promoted idleness, dissipation, and gambling. 

Personal prowess and vigOur being rendered in a grekt 
measure unnecessary by the invention of gunpowder, and 
the consequent revolution in all the modes of war, chivalry 
began to decay towards the latter part of the fifteenth cen- 
tury, especially in this country, where the wars of the 
Roses occupied the nobility and gentry, and real battles 
afforded but little leisure for exercising the mockery of war. 
Tilts and tournaments, indeed, continued to be occasionally 
displayed, sometimes with prodigious splendour and mag- 
nificence, until the end of the following century, being 
usually exhibited at coronations, royal marriages, and other 
occasions where pomp and pageantry were required : but 
these shadows of extinct chivalry possiessed none of the 
utility, and therefore none of the vital spirit, with which it 
had been animated in former days. What had once been a 
Valuable school of war, and of ail knightly accomplish' 



filStORICAt RfiTROSPECf. 103 

tiifents, had now degenerated into a tawdry and unmeaning 
game. 

Proud of his bodily strength and agility, and anxious to 
display them, Henry VIII. once more gave a. temporary 
fashion to military pastimes and violent corporeal exercises. 
Even after his accession to the throne, according to his 
biographer Hall, he continued daily to amuse himself in arch- 
ery, casting of the bar, wrestling, or dancing, and frequently 
ih tilting, tourneying, fighting at the barriers with swords 
and battle-axes, and such like martial recreations. These 
were not practised, hov^never, to the exclusion of intellectual 
pursuits, for we learn from the same authority that he spent 
his leisure time in playing at the recorders, flute, and vir- 
ginals, in setting of songs, singing, and making of ballads. 
In the succeeding century we have the following description 
of the sports and amusements of Charles, Lord Mountjoy.* 
" He delighted in study, in gardens, in riding on a pad to 
take the air, in playing at shovelboard, at cards, and in read- 
ing of play-books for recreation, and especially in fishing and 
fish-ponds, seldom useing any other exercises, and useing 
these rightly as pastimes, only for a short and convenient 
time, and with great variety of change from one to the othef.'^ 

James I., in a set of rules drawn up by himself and ad* 
dressed to his eldest son Henry, Prince of Wales, gives the 
following instruction respecting his recreations': '"From 
this court I debarre all rough and violent exercises '; 'as the 
foote-ball> meeter for laming than making able th« users 
thereof ; as likewise such tumbling trickes as only serve 
for comoedians and balladines to win their bread with : but 
the exercises that I would have you to use, although but 
moderately, not making a craft of them, are running, Icap" 
ing, wrestling, fencing, daneing, and playing at the caitch, 
or tennise, archerie, palle^m'alle, and such like other fair and 
pleasant field-game's. And the honourablest and most 
recommendable games that yee can use on horseback, and 
especially such as may teach you to handle your arms 
thereon — such as the tilt, the ring, and l6w-riding for han- 
dling of your sWOrd. I cannot omit here the huntings 
iiamely, with running houndes, which is the most honour*- 
^ble and noblest sort thereof; for it is a thievish Form oit 

♦ From the Itinerfiry of Fynes Morion, l^blished A. D 1617. 



104 MODEltN FESTIVALS, GAMES, ETC. 

jfeiunting to shoote with gunnes and bowes ; and greyhound 
hunting is not so martial a game. As for hawkinge, I con- 
demn it not ; but I must praise it more spariiigly, because 
it neither resembleth the wars so neere as hunting, and is 
more unbertain and subject to mischances ; and, which is 
worst of all, is there-through an extreme stirrer up of the 
passions. 

*'As for sitting or house pastimes, since they may at 
tiines supply the rooms which, being empty, would be patent 
to pernicious idleness, I will not therefore agree with the 
curiosity of some learned men of our age in forbidding 
cards, dice, and such like games of hazard : when it is foul 
or stormy weather, then, I say, may ye lawfully play at the 
cardes or tables; for, as to dicing, I think it becommeth 
best deboshed souldiers to play at on the heads of their 
drums, being only ruled by hazard, and subject to knavish 
cogging; and as for the chesse, I think it overfonde, be- 
cause it is overwise and philosophicke folly." 

After the wars of the parliament, when the pleasure- 
hating puritans gained the ascendency, the pastimes of all 
classes, but more especially of the lower orders, suffered 
a miserable suspension and abridgment. Austerity and 
mortitication were enforced by those morose ascetics with a 
blind rigour that confounded the most innocent recreations 
with others of which the suppression, or at least the regu- 
lation, might perhaps have been desirable. Not only were 
the theatres and public gardens closed, but a war of bigotry 
was carried on against May-polesj wakes, fairs, organs, 
fiddles, dancing, Whitsun-ales, puppet-shows, and almost 
every thing else that wore the semblance of popular amuse- 
ment and diversion. The recoil of the national mind, thus 
forcibly wrested from its natural bias, occasioned that burst 
of licentiousness and general demoralization which dis- 
graced the retiirh and the reign of Charles II. ; a warning 
that ought not to be forgotten by the modem puritans, 
who would restrict the harmless pastimes of our labouring 
classes. 

It was not until the discontinuance of bodily exercises 
afforded leisure for mental improvement, that the cultiva- 
tion of letters an'd learning began to be esteemed an indis- 
pensable part of a polite education. Some of the nobility, 
however, proud, as it should seem, of the ignorance which 



HISTORICAL RETHOSPECt. 105 

had been " handed down to them by the wisdom of their 
ancestors," clung to the old prejudices against book-leam- 
ing. " It is enough," said a person of high rank to the 
secretary of Henry VIII., " it is enough for the sons of the 
nobility to wind their horn and carry their hawk fair, and 
leave study and learning to the children of meaner people." 
We have young patricians of the present day who act up 
to the spitit of this diction ; while we have sapient gray- 
beards in the same class, who, having themselves mastered 
their letters, seem to be afraid that letters might become 
their masters, if they suffered them to be generally acquired 
by the lower classes. 

Burton, in his Anatomy of Melancholy, gives us a gene- 
ral view of the sports most prevalent in the seventeenth 
century. " Cards, dice, hawks, and hounds," he observes) 
*' are rocks upon wliich men lose themselves, when they are 
imprudently handled and beyond their fortunes. Hunting 
and hawking are honest recreations, and fit for some great 
men, but not for every base inferior pefson, who while they 
maintain their falconer, and dogs, and hunting nags, their 
wealth runs away with their hounds, and their fortunes fly 
away with their hawks." He recapitulates as the com- 
mon pastimes both of town and country, " bull-baitmgs 
and bear-baitings, in which our countrymen and citizens 
greatly delight, and frequently use ; dancers on ropes, 
jugglers, comedies, tragedies, artillery-gardens, and cock- 
fighting. Ordinary recreations we have in winter, as cards, 
tables, dice, shovelboard, chess-play, the philosopher's 
game, small trunks, shuttlecock, billiards, music, masks, 
singing, dancing, ule games, &c." To this catalogue he 
adds "dancing, singing, masking, mumming, and stage- 
plays are reasonable recreations if in season ; as are May- 
games, wakes, Whitsun-ales. Let them" — that is, the com- 
mon people — "freely feast, sing, dance, have puppet-plays, 
hobby-horses, tabors, crowds (i. e. fiddles), and bagpipes. 
Plays, masks, jesters, tumblers, and jugglers are to be 
winked at, lest the people should do worse than attend 
them." 

Strype's edition of Stow's Survey, published in the year 
1720, gives us the following general view of the pastimes 
of the Londoners : " The modern sports of the citizens," 
says the editor, " besides drinking, are cock-fighting, bowl- 



106 MODERN FESTIVALS, GAMES, ETC. 

ing upon greens, playing at tableis of backgammon, cards, 
dice, and billiards ; also musical entertainments, dancing, 
iaiasks, balls, stage-playS, artd club-meetings in the eve- 
ning ; and they sometimes ride out on horseback, and hunt 
with the lord mayor's pack of dogs, when the common hunt 
goes out. The lower classes divert themselves at football, 
wrestling, cudgels, ninepins, shovelboard,* cricket, snow- 
ball, ringing of bells, quoits, pitching the bar, bull and bear- 
baitings, throwing at cocks, and lying at alehouses." 

In addition to peculiar and extensive privileges of hunt- 
ing, hawking, and fishing, the Londoners had large portions 
of ground allotted to them in the vicinity of the city, for 
such pastimes as were best calculated to render them strong 
knd healthy. The city damsels had also their recreation 
On the celebration of these festivals, dancing to the accom- 
paniment of music, and continuing their sports by moon- 
light. Stow tells us that in his time it was customary for 
the maidens, after evening prayers, to dance and sing in 
the presence of their masters and mistresses, the best per- 
former being rewarded with a garland. Who can peruse 
the recapitulation of London sports and amusements, even 
so late as the beginning of the last century, without being 
struck by the contrast it presents in its preseht stat6, when, 
as a French traveller observes, it is no longer a city, but a 
province covered with houses 1 lii the whole world, prob- 
ably, there is no large towri so utterly unprovided with 
means of healthful recreation for the mass of the citizens. 
Every vacant and green spot has been converted into a 
street ; field after field has been absorbed by the builder ; 
all the scenes of popular resort have been smothered with 
piles of brick ; football and cricket- grounds, bowling-greens, 
and the enclosures or open places set apart for archery and 
other pastimes, have been successively parceled out in 
squares, lanes, or alleys ; the increasing value of land and 
extent of the city render it impossible to find substitutes ; 
and the humbler classes who may wish to obtain the sight 
of a field, or inhjile a mouthful of fresh air, can scarcely 
be gratified unless, at some expense of time and money, 
they make a jouriiey for the purpose. Even our parks, not 

* The shovelboard, otice an indispensable appendage to the hall of 
great houses, had now become vulgar, its place being probably supplied 
by a billiard-table. 



HISTORICAL RETROSPECT. 107 

unaptly termed the lungs of the metropolis, have been parr 
tially invaded by the omnivorous builder ; nor are those 
portions of them which are still open available to the com- 
monalty for purposes of pastime and sport. Under such 
circumstances, who can wonder that they should lounge 
away their unemployed time in the skittle-grounds of ale- 
houses and gin-shops 1 or that their immoraUty should have 
increased with the enlargement of the town, and the com- 
pulsory discontinuance of their former healthful and harm- 
less pastimes 1 It would be wise to revive, rather than seek 
any further to suppress them : wiser still would it be, with 
reference both to the bodily and moral health of the people, 
if, in all new enclosures for building, provision were legally 
made for the unrestricted enjoyment of their games and 
diversions, by leaving large open spaces to be appropriated 
to that purpose. 

Upon a general review of our present prevailing amuse- 
ments, it will be found, that if many have been dropped, at 
least in the metropolis, which it might have been desirable 
to retain, several have also been abandoned of which we 
cannot by any means regret the loss ; while those that 
remain to us, participating in the advancement of civiliza- 
tion, have in some instances become much more intellectual 
in their character, and in others have assumed some elegant, 
humane, and unobjectionable forms. Bull and bear-bait- 
ing, cock-throwing and fighting, and such like barbarous 
pastimes, hare long been on the wane, and will, it is to be 
hoped, soon become totally extinct. That females of rank 
and education should now frequent such savage scenes, 
seems so little within the scope of possibility that we can 
hardly credit their ever having done so, even in times that 
were comparatively barbarous.'^ 

We extract from a work published in 1575, the following 
description of a bear-baiting, not so much in illustration of 
our subject, as because it presents to the reader a curious 
specimen of the true London dialect and orthography at that 

* Among the entertainments provided for Queen Elizabeth by the ac- 
complished Earl of Leicester, oti her visit to Kenilworth Castle, was " a 
grand bear-baiting, to which were added tumbling and fireworks." 
" Her majesty '' says Rowland White, in the Sidney Papers, " hath com- 
manded the beares, the bull, and the ape to be to-morrow bayted in the 
tilt-yard, and on Wednesday she will have solemne dauncing." 



108 MODERN FESTIVALS, GAMES, ETC. 

period ; " Well, syr, the beerz wear brought foorth into the 
court, the dogs wear set to them, to argu the pointz cum 
face to face. They had learned counsel too a' both partis. 
Very feerse both t'one and t'other, and easjer in argument. 
If the dog in pleadyng would pluk the bear by the thrate, 
the bear with havers woold claw him again by the scalp. 
Confess an he list, but avoyd a coold not that was bound 
too the bar. Thearfore thus, each fending and proovyng, 
with plucking and lugging, skralling and bytyng, by plain 
tooth and nayll, a t'one side and t'oother. Such expens of 
blood and leather waz thear between them, as a month's 
licking, I wean, will not recover. 

" It waz a sport very pleazaunt of theeze beastz, to see 
the bear with his pinkneyes leering after hiz enemie's ap- 
proach ; the nimbleness and wayt too of the dog too take 
hiz advantage ; and the forz and experiens of the bear agayn 
to avoyd the assault. If he wear bitten in one place hoow 
he would pynch in another too get free ; that if he wear 
taken onez, than, what shyft with bytyng, with clawyng, 
with roiyng, tossyng, and tumblyng, he could Avoorke too 
wynd hymselfe from them. And when he was lose, to 
shake his ears twyse or thryse with the blood and slaver 
about his fiznamy, waz a matter of a goodly reliefe," &c. 

Paul Hentzner, after describing the baiting of bulls and 
bears, adds, " To this entertainment there often follows that 
of whipping a blinded bear, which is performed by five or 
six men standing circularly with whips, which they exer- 
cise on him without mercy, as he cannot escape from them 
because of his chain. At this spectacle, and every where 
else, the English are constantly smoking tobacco." 

Stevens, the commentator on Shakspeare, observes that 
in some counties of England a cat was formerly closed up 
with a quantity of soot in a cask suspended on a line. He 
who beat out the bottom as he ran under it, and was nimble 
enough to escape its contents, was regarded as the hero ot 
this inhuman diversion, which was terminated by hunting 
to death the unfortunate cat. The peculiar persecution to 
which these animals were formeriy subjected is thought to 
have originated in their supposed intimacy with the witches 
— a suspicion which was quite sufficient to render them un- 
popular with the ignorant vulgar. 

It will not easily find belief, in these days of rigorous 



HISTORICAL RETROSPECT, 109 

sbservance,'that the time usually appropriated for the exhibi- 
tion of these and other barbarous games, as well as for the 
performance of plays and interludes, and the amusements 
of cards, music, dancing, and other diversions, was the afterr 
part of the Sabbath-day. 

Erasmus has said that human reason is like a drunken 
clown attempting to njount a horse ; if you help him up on one 
side, he is very apt to fall over on the other ;-^a dictuip 
which has never been more pointedly illustrated than in th^ 
various and contradictory ways wherein the Sabbath has 
been observed in the different ages and countries of the 
world. There is diversity even in t\m day itself, still more 
so in the mode of its celebration. As the law of Moses, 
however severe it may be against the profanation by labour 
iof the appointed day of rest, nowhere proscribes innocent 
recreation, there is reason to conclude that, in the earlier 
ages, the Sabbath was equally consecrated to religious so.- 
iemnities and innocent enjoyments. Of all those supersti- 
tious statutes which we find specified in the Talmud, and 
which in the latter days of the Hebrews made the observ- 
ance of the Sabbath a weekly plague of the most grievous 
kind, Moses has not one single word. They were invenr 
tions of the traditionists and Pharisees, seeking to conceal 
their want of real religion by fantastical ceremonies and 
ridiculous external observances. Christ lost no opportunity 
of combating and condemning these austerities, more espe- 
cially when he declared, as if for the express purpose of 
setting the question at rest for ever, that " the Sabbath was 
made for man, and not man for the Sabbath." Among the 
early Christians it was so especially a day of joy and glad- 
aesh, that all fasting on it was prohibited, even during the 
leat annual fast of Lent. The council of Laodicea went 
o far as to allow working if great necessity required it. By 
the statute 27 Henry VI. fairs or markets are forbidden to be 
held on any Sunday, except the four Sundays in harvest. 
There is extant a license dated 1572, permitting one John 
Swinton Powlter " to use playes and games on nine severall 
Sundaies ; and because great resort of people is like to 
come thereunto, he is to have proper persons to keep peace 
and quiet during the continuance of such playes and 
games." And yet, only eight years afterward, and in the 
same queen's reign, the magigtrates of London procured an 



110 MODERN FESTIVALS, GAMES, ETC. 

edict to be issued, " that all heathenish playes and interludes 
should be banished upon sabbath-days,"* but this is under- 
stood as only applying to the jurisdiction of the lord mayor ; 
for three years afterward a prodigious concourse of people 
being assembled on a Sunday afternoon at the Paris Gar- 
dens in Southwark, to see plays and a bear-baiting, the 
theatre fell with their weight, when many were killed and 
more wounded. The successor of Elizabeth, on the other 
hand, thinking that the restrictions on the public sports 
were too generally and too strictly applied, especially in 
the public places, published the following declaration:! 
" Whereas we did justly, in our progress through Lancashire, 
rebuke some puritanes and precise people, in prohibiting and 
unlawfully punishing of our good people for using their 
lawful recreations and honest exercises on Sundayes and 
other holidayes, after the afternoone sermon or service : It 
is our will, that after the end of Divine service our good 
people be not disturbed, letted, or discouraged from any 
lawful recreation, such as dauncing, either for men or 
women ; archery for men, leaping, vaulting, or any other 
such harmless recreation ; nor for having of May-games, 
Whitson-ales, and morris-uaunces, and the setting up of 
Maypoles and other sports therewith used; so as the same 
be had in due and convenient time, without impediment or 
neglect of Divine service. But withall, we do still account 
here, as prohibited, all unlawful games to be used on Sun- 
days onely, as beare and bull-baitings, interludes, and, at all 
times in the meaner sort of people by law prohibited, 
bowling."t 

This proclamation was confirmed by Charles I., to the 
great displeasure of those who regarded these amusements 
as unlawful on the Sabbath, and many of them unlawful 
in themselves, apart from any alleged profanity of the day ; 

* Her majesty does not appear to have objected to other Sabbath pas- 
times. In the list of the Kenilworth entertaiaments we read, that " On 
Sunday evening she was entertained with a grand display of fireworks, 
as well in the air as upon the water." 

t See the introduction to Strutt's Sports and Pastimes, and the preface 
to Brand's Popular Antiquities, from which parts of the preceding sum- 
mary have been abridged. 

t In the subsequent part of this chapter the publishers have omitted 
some of the author's observations and modified others, in order to render 
the work more acceptable to the American public. 



HISTORICAL RETROSPECT. Ill 

and on their obtaining the hehn of government, they enforced 
a rigid observance of the Sabbath, which was not less ex- 
ceptionable than the other extreme in its effects, for the law 
of force may make hypocrites, but it will ever fail to make 
Christians. The Restoration again made the Sabbath 
afternoon a time of sport and pastime, and too often of 
licentiousness : so that, driven by the authority of law 
from one extreme to another, the poor commonalty of Eng- 
land must have been sadly puzzled how to comport them- 
selves properly on their weekly holyday, or what to think 
of an institution which gave rise to such conflicting edicts, 
all enforced by the pains and penalties of law, and all dia- 
metrically opposed to each other. 

From the time of the Revolution, there has been an 
increasing tendency to compel a rigorous observance of the 
Sabbath, which is supposed by some to savour of pharisa- 
ical bigotry and intolerance. There is, doubtless, a possi- 
bility of pushing the restraints of law so far as to defeat 
the object for which they are employed, and this perhaps has 
sometimes been the case in the attempts made to enforce ob- 
servance of the Sabbath, especially when rigid and ascetical 
regulations were enforced by harsh and severe penalties. 
For the sake of religion herself, it is not proper to enjoin 
those peculiar austerities which, in the minds of the vulgar, 
tend to associate her with gloom, sadness, mortification, 
and ennui. 

Still, however, the importance of the Sabbath, in a civil 
as well as religious point of light, should never be lost 
sight of by an enlightened legislature. Christianity, which 
can only exist where the Sabbath is reverenced, has 
founded all our noble institutions, introduced free govern- 
ment and general happiness, and with no other compulsory 
sway than that of light and love, as the sun reigns over 
the world ; and this alone can pour temporal and eternal 
riches upon every region of our earth. 

The laws of every government professedly Christian 
ought to recognise the Sabbath as of Divine appointment, 
and open profanation of the day, by gross and public profli- 
gacy or dissipation, should be prohibited by law. But the 
restraints of law should be directed at prohibitions rather 
than injunctions. They should act negatively, not positively ; 
and so long as the operations of law are directed to restrain 



112 MODERN f^STIVALS, GAMES, £TC. 

the irregular and dissolute from open profanation of the day^ 
the peace and good order of society will be maintained, and 
^uch measures will receive the approbation of every intelli- 
gent citizen of any government. Political freedom can never- 
be dissevered from virtue ; virtue is but another name for the 
sense of moral responsibility to God ; and this ibioral sense' 
cannot live in a land where the Sabbath is publicly disre- 
garded. It will ever be a true sentiment that no legislature 
can license sin ; no human power can make that lawfuE 
which is unlawful in itself; — nor can any government justify 
that which the book of nature and the book of revelation 
alike proclaim to be contrary to the law of God. 

Finally, let all the religious observances of the Sabbath be 
duly attended, and let Christians everywhere content them- 
selves with the single weapons of persuasion a,nd example ; 
— meaning, by persuasion, an open and candid statement of 
facts, arguments, and motives ; and by example, the con- 
iScientious regulation of their own conduct, in accordance 
with the requisitions of the fourth commandment. He who 
instead of observing its ordinances, abandons himself to 
|)Tofiiga,te or forbidden indulgences is a Sabbath-breaker 5 
so is he who dedicates it to the worship of his own narrow 
notions, for this is self-idolatry ; who saddens it by misery 
aind moroseness, for this is ingratitude towards heaven ^ 
•tvho imbitters it with bigotry and intolerance, for this is nm 
charitableness towards his fellow-creatures^ 



CHAPTER X. 

Holyday Notices. 

" Thtis times do shift, each thing his tume does hold ; 
New things succe^ed, as fbraier things grow old." 

Herrick 

As the festivals take precedence in our titlepage, we shaft 
briefly notice those that are most distinguished, and the 
modes of their celebration, before we proceed to the subject 
of games and amusements, avoiding in our summary such 



HOLYDAY NOTICES. 113 

minute researches as would little please the general reader, 
however they may interest the professed antiquary. In- 
quirers of the latter character having often thrown so much 
Kght upon the subject as to obscure it by their illustrations, 
it may perhaps be rendered more intelligible as well as 
attractive by presenting it in a more condensed and simple 
form ; though even in this shape we may often have to 
repeat that with which the reader is already conversant. 

New-year's Day. — It is at once so natural and so 
laudable to commemorate the nativity of the new year, 
which is a sort of second birthday of our own, by acts of 
grateful worship to heaven, and of beneficence towards our 
fellow-creatures, that this mode of its celebration will be 
found to have prevailed, with little variety of observance, 
amono- all ages and people. Congratulations, visits, and 
presents of figs and dates, covered with gold-leaf, are said 
to have distinguished New-year's Day even in the times 
of Romulus and Tatius, and to have continued under the 
Roman emperors, until the practice, being abused into a 
mode of extortion, was prohibited by Claudius. Yet the 
Christian emperors still received them, although they were 
condemned by ecclesiastical councils on account of the Pagan 
ceremonies at their presentation ; so difficult was it found, 
in the earlier ages of Christianity, to detach the newly-con- 
verted people from their old observances. The Druids of 
ancient Britain were accustomed on certain days to cut the 
sacred misletoe with a golden knife, in a forest dedicated to 
the gods, and to distribute its branches with much ceremony 
as New-year's gifts to the people. Among the Saxons and 
northern nations this anniversary was also observed by gifts, 
accompanied with such extraordinary festivity, that they reck- 
oned their age by the number of these merrhnakings at which 
they had been present. The Roman practice of interchang- 
ing presents and of giving them to servants, remained in force 
during the middle and later ages, especially among our 
kings and nobility ; Henry III. appearing to have even imi- 
tated some of the Roman emperors by extorting them,* and 
Queen Elizabeth being accused of principally supporting 
her wardrobe and jewelry by levying similar contribu- 

* According to Mr. Ellis, who quotes Matthew Paris in proof of hii 
assertion. 

K3 



ii4 kOLtDAY NOTICES. 

tions.* Pins were aca, ptable New-year's gifts to the ladies, &d 
substitutes for the wooden skewers which they used till thci 
end of the fiifteenth century. Instead of this present they 
sometimes received a composition in money, whence the 
allowance for their separate use is still termed " pin-money." 

To the credit of the kindly and amiable feelings of the 
French, they bear the palm from all other nations in the 
extent and costliness of* their New-year's gifts. It has 
been estimated that the amount expended upon bon-bons and 
sweetmeats alone, for presents oil New-year's Day in Paris, 
exceeds 20,000Z. sterling ; while the sale of jewelry and 
fancy articles in the first week in the year is computed at 
one-fourth of the sale during the twelve months. It is by 
no means uncommon for a Parisian of 8000 or 10,000 franca 
a-year to make presents on New-year's Day which cost 
him a fifteenth part of his income. At an early hour of the! 
morning this interchange of visits and bon-bons is already 
in full activity, the nearest relations being first visited, until 
the furthest in blood and their friends and acquaintance 
have all had their calls. A dinner is given by some meraber 
of the family to all the rest, and the evening concludesj 
like Christmas Day, with cards, dancing, or other amuse- 
ments. 

In London, New-year's Day is not observed by any pub- 
lic festivity ; the only open demonstration of joy is the 
ringing of merry peals from the belfries of the numerous 
steeples late on the eve of the old year, until after the <' 
chimes of the clock have sounded its last hour. We may 
have done well to drop what Prynne, in his Histrio-Mastix, ■ 
calls " a meere relique of Paganisme and idolatry, derived 
from the heathen Romans' feast of two-faced Janus, which 
■was spent in mummeries, stage plays, dancing, and such 
like interludes, wherein fiddlers and others acted lascivious 
effeminate parts, and went about the towns and cities in 
women's apparel;" but, hov^rever the celebration of New- 
year's Day may have been disfigured in the earlier ages by 
Pagan associatioiis and superstitious rites, nothing can be 

* This is Dr. Drake's opinion, whdae researches prove her majesty to 
have even received New-year's gifts from her household servants. 
Among others, the dustman is recorded as having presented her with 
two bolts of cambric. Unless these donations were upon the calculating 
prineiplo of do ut des, their reception implies great meanness. 



HOLYDAir NOTICES. llfi 

inore truly Christian than to usher it in with every cheerful 
observance that may express gratitude towards Heaven, and 
promote a kindly and a social feeling among our friends and 
fellow-creatures. 

Twelfth Day is so called because it is the twelfth day 
after the Nativity. It is also termed the Epiphany, or Mani- 
festation of Christ to the Gentiles, when the eastern magi 
^r^rp. guided by the star to pay their homage to the Saviour. 
The festive rites and gambols of this anniversary were 
originally intended to commemorate the magi, who were 
supposed to be kings. In France, one of the courtiers was 
formerly chosen king, and waited upon by the real monarch 
and his nobles in a grand entertainment ; in Germany they 
practise a similar custom among the scholars at the coUegeSj 
and the citizens at civic banquets ; at our own universitieSj 
not many years ago, and in private entertainments still, it is 
customary to give the name of king to that person whosd 
portion of the divided cak6 contains the lucky bean, or the roy- 
ally -inscribed label, and to honour him with a mock homagei 
This mode of perpetuating the remembrance of the easterri 
kings seems to have been partly borrowed from the Roman 
saturnalia, when the masters made a banquet for their ser- 
vants, and waited upon them ; and partly from the Romaii 
tustom of drawing lots or bfearis for the title of king, when 
the *brtunate party was declared monarch of the festive cir- 
cle, over which he exercised full authority until they sepa- 
tated. The festival of kings, as this day is called in aii 
ancient calendar of th6 Romish church, was continued with 
feasting for many days. " To what base uses may we not 
teturnl" In 1792, during the French Revolution, when 
kings of all sorts were suffering proscription, lafite des rais 
was abolished as anti-civic, and Twelfth Day took the name 
of la fete des sans culottes. To this nominal change the 
Jpeople willingly yielded assent, but they would not resign 
the festival and the good cheer, and they were quite right. 
As a religious nlemento, the cake and its concomitants may 
be idle and perhaps irreverent, but it is a pity to let any 
custom fall into desuetude which promotes social mirth and 
happiness, and fills every juvenile class with pleasant anti- 
liipations and recollections from Christmas to Candlemas. 

Candlemas Day, 2d February.. — The Purification of the 
^irgin Mary. It has already been intimated that this feast 



116 HOLYDAY NOTICES. 

was derived from the Romans, though writers differ both as 
to the Pagan ceremony, of which it was an imitation, and 
as to the pope by whom it was first established. Some 
affirm that it was copied from the festival of Februa, the 
mother of Mars, when the Pagans were accustomed to run 
about the streets with lighted torches ; and that in the year 
of our Lord 684, Pope Sergius, " in order to undo this false 
mummery and untrue belief, and turn it into God's worship 
and our Lady's, gave commandment that all Christian 
people should come to church, and offer up a candle bren- 
nyng, in the worship that they did to this woman Februa, 
and do worship to our Lady." In some of the ancient illu- 
minated calendars, a woman holding a taper in each hand 
is represented in the month of February. The following 
is given as one of the prayers used at the hallowing of 
candles. " O Lord Jesu Christ, -|- blesse thou this creature 
of a waxen taper at our humble supplication, and by the 
vertue of thy holy crosse, poure thou into it an heavenly 
benediction ; that as thou hast graunted it unto man's use 
for the expelling of darknes, it may receive such a strength 
and blessing thorow the token of thy holy cross, that in 
what places soever it be lighted or set, the divel may avoid 
out of those habitacions, and tremble for feare, and fly away 
discouraged, and presume no more to unquiete them that 
serve thee,"&c. 

" There is a general tradition," says Sir Thomas Browne, 
in his Vulgar Errors, " in most parts of Europe, that infer- 
reth the coldnesse of succeeding winter from the shining 
of the sun on Candlemas Day, according to the proverbial 
distich- 
Si sol splendescat Maria purificante, 
Major erit glacies post festum quam fuit ante. 

Candle-carrying on this day remained in England till its 
abolition by an order in council in the second year of King 
Edward VL 

Valentine Day, 14th February. — This also seems to 
have been a festival inherited from the ancient Romans, but 
fathered upon St. Valentine in the earlier ages of the 
church, in order to Christianize it. There is no occur- 
rence in the legend of the saint, a presbyter, beheaded under 
the Emperor Claudius, that can have given rise to the cere- 
monies observed on his anniversary, which are too well 



HOLYDAY NOTICES. 117 

kndwn to need arty description. Birds are said to choose 
their mates about this time of year, whence probably came 
the custom of young persons selecting valentines, and of 
sending some amatory or flattering effusion to the object of 
their preference. This is the commonly-received opinions 
but Brand, in his Popular Antiquities, seems inclined to 
suppose that the observance originated in an ancient 
Romish superstition of choosing patrons on this day for the 
ensuing year, a custom which gallantry took up when, 
superstition at the Reformation had been compelled to let it 
fall. It is a ceremony, says Bourne, never omitted among 
the vulgar, to draw lots, which they term valentines, on the 
feve before Valentine Day. The names of a Select number 
of one sex are by an equal number of the other put into 
some vessel ; and after that every one draws a name, which 
for the present is called their valentine, and is looked upon 
as a good omen of their being man and wife afterward. 
This sport appears to have been practised in the houses of 
the English gentry as early as the year 1476. Among the 
same class it was deemed obsolete in 1645. In the " Forest 
of Varieties," of that date. Lord North, its author, says, 
" The custome and charge of valentines is not ill left, with 
many other such costly and idle customs, which by a tacit 
genefall consent wee lay downe as obsolete." The amuse- 
ments of the common people, however, hardly ever wear 
out ; in confirmation of which we may state, that at the 
present time two hundred thousand letters beyond the usual 
daily average annually pass through the twopenny post-* 
office in London on St. Valentine's Day. 

Shrove Tuesday, or Shrove-tide, was set apart by the 
Romish church for shriving or confessing sins and receiving 
the sacrament, that people might be better prepared for the 
following season of Lent. This custom was abandoned at 
the Reformation, no confession to the spiritual guide being 
allowed, except when the conscience cannot otherwise he 
quieted ; in which case the grief is to be revealed to him in 
private for the benefit of his prayers and counsel. It was 
a, season of great feasting and intemperance, as if it were 
necessary to eat and drink to excess, in order to prepare for 
the coming fast ; a mode of celebrating the day derived 
doubtless from the Romish Carni-vale, or farewell to flesh, 
the meat being anciently prepared at this season to last 



118 HOLYDAY NOTICES. 

during the winter by salting, drying, and being hung up* 
Shrove Tuesday, being the last day of the carnival, was 
more especially devoted to feasting, foolery, and riot of all 
sorts ; but whence originated the custom of eating pan- 
cakes, which extended to other countries besides England, 
and was of very ancient observance, does not seem to be 
decided ; though Mr. Fosbrooke is of opinion that it was 
taken from the heathen Fornacalia, celebrated on the 18th 
of February, in memory of making bread before ovens were 
invented by the goddess Fornax. Among the sports of the 
day cock-fighting and throwing at cocks appear almost 
every where to have prevailed, and at a very early period. 
The nature of these sports indeed, both of them ruthless 
and savage, the latter adding unmanly cowardice to the 
most revolting cruelty, points to a barbarous era for their 
first introduction. Strange that Christians, even in a dark 
age, should have found pleasure in such inhuman pastime ! 
stranger still that in the present enlightened era men can 
be found brutal enough to continue the atrocity ! Its first 
meaning and intention, for such it probably had, since the 
custom is peculiar to the day, remains buried in obscurity. 
The writer of a pamphlet published in 1761, after stigma- 
tizing this cruel diversion as a horrible abuse of time — " an 
abuse so much the more shocking as it is shown in torment- 
ing the very creature which seems by nature intended for 
our remembrancer to improve it : the creature whose voice 
like a trmnpet summoneth man forth to his labour in the 
morning, and admonisheth him of the flight of his most pre- 
cious hours throughout the day" — has the following ob- 
servation ; " Whence it had its rise among us I could never 
yet learn to my satisfaction ; but the common account of it 
is, that the crowing of a cock prevented our Saxon ances- 
tors from massacring their conquerors the Danes, on the 
morning of a Shrove Tuesday, while asleep in their beds." 

Hearne tells us, in the preface to the edition of Thomas 
OtterboUrne, that this custom must be traced to the time of 
King Henry V., and our victories then gained over the 
French, whose name in Latin is synonymous with that of 
a cock ; our countrymen meaning to intimate that they 
could at any time overthrow the Gallic armies as easily as 
they could knock down the cocks on Shrove Tuesday. 
The knightly amusement of tilting at a Saracen's head, a 



HOLYDAY NOTICES. 119 

practice which had its rise in the holy wars, might by 
analogy afford some support to Hearne's explanation of 
throwing at cocks ; but unfortunately the latter barbarity 
appears to have been also practised in France long before 
the time of Henry V., and our neighbours can hardly have 
found pleasure in pelting and knocking down themselves, 
even typically. 

Another writer conjectures that the whipping of tops, the 
tossing of pancakes in the fryingpan, and the battering of 
cocks with missiles bear allusion to the sufferings and tor- 
ments of some of the martyrs. Erasmus could discover no 
other intelligible motive for the prevalence of the latter 
detestable custom than insanity, produced by surfeiting 
upon pancakes ! " The English," says he, " eat a certain 
cake on Shrove Tuesday, upon which they immediately run 
mad, and kill their poor cocks." As this day formerly 
wound up the Christmas festivities — for thus far might they 
be said to have continued — it may not be misplaced to re- 
mark, that no religious ceremonies are so long maintained 
and so punctually observed by the vulgar as those that have 
reference to their sensual enjoyments. Although a supper 
of eggs and fat bacon may not prove them to be good 
Christians, it will at least show that they are no Jews — 
wherefore has the gammon been always reverenced as an 
orthodox dainty. They like no odour of sanctity so well as 
that which fumes up to them from the kitchen : they have 
a v,^onderfully tenacious memory for all eating and drinking 
anniversaries, and never fail to observe with a becoming 
zeal all those religious rites and ceremonies which are cele- 
brated in the stomach. 

Ash Wednesday, which is the first day of Lent, is so 
called from the ancient ceremony of blessing ashes on that 
day, wherewith the priest signed the people on the fore- 
head in the foiro of a cross, pronouncing at the same time 
this wholesome admonition — "Remember, man, thou art 
dust, and shalt return to dust." Platina, a priest, and libra- 
rian to the Vatican, relates, that Prochetus, archbishop of 
Geneva, being at Rome on Ash Wednesday, he fell at the 
feet of Pope Boniface VIII., who blessed and gave out the 
ashes on that day, in order to be signed with the blessed 
ashes as others had been. Thinking him to be his enemy, 
instead of uttering the usual form, the pope parodied it, !Uji^ 



120 IIOLYDAY NOTICES, 

said, " Remember thou art a Ghibelline, and with the Ghi- 
bellines thou shalt return to ashes," and then his holiness 
threw the ashes in the archbishop's eyes.* In a convo- 
cation held in the time of Henry VIII., this practice was 
preserved with some other rites and ceremonies which 
survived the shock that almost overthrew the whole pile of 
Catholic superstitions. In our present church we supply 
the ancient discipline of sackcloth and ashes by reading 
publicly on this day the curses denounced against impeni- 
tent sinners, when the people are directed to repeat an 
amen at the end of each malediction. Many conscientious 
persons abstain from participating in this form, under the 
impression that the commination of our prayer-book is 
hardly consistent with the mild character of Christianity 
and its injunctions of brotherly love and kindness. Lent 
was reckoned to begin on that which is now the first Sun.- 
day in Lent, and to end on Easter-eve, thus including forty> 
two days, from which if the six Sundays are deducted on 
which it was counted not lawful at any time of the year to 
fast, there will only remain thirty-six days. In order that 
the number of days which Christ fasted might be perfected, 
Pope Gregory added to Lent four days, viz. that which we 
now call Ash Wednesday and the three following days ; 
" so that we see the first observation of Lent began from a 
superstitious, unwarrantable, and indeed profane conceit of 
imitating our Saviour's miraculous abstinence."! 

St. David's Day, 1st March.-^" In consequence of the 
romances of the middle ages," says Owen in his Cambrian 
Biography, p. 86, " which created the Seven Champions of 
Christendom, St. David has been dignified with the title of 
the Patron Saint of Wales ; but this rank, however, is hardly 
known among the people of the principality, being a title 
diffused among them from England in modem times." 
For the custom of wearing the leek on this day various rea- 
sons have been assigned ; but the majority of inquirers into 
this subject conjecture it to have arisen from the great vic- 
tory gained by the British king Cadwallader over the 
Saxons at Hethfield Chase in Yorkshire, A. D. 633, when 
^t. David directed the Britons to distinguish themselves 

* Hone's Every-day Book, art. Ask Wednesday. 
t Praad's Popular Antiquities^ vol. i. p. 79, 



HOLYDAY NOTICES. 121 

from their enemies by wearing the leek; a regulation 
which, in conjunction with his prayers, enabled them to 
defeat the foe. 

Coarse and ignorant ridicule of national peculiarities has 
always been a characteristic of the English populace, who 
bestowed their taunts as freely upon their fellow-subjects as 
upon foreigners — a failing which, though it may be softened 
in modern times, is by no means extinct. Formerly it was 
the custom with the London populace, on St. David's Day, 
to insult the Welsh by dressing up a man of straw to repre- 
sent a Cambrian hero, which was carried in procession, and 
then hung in some conspicuous place ; a provocation which 
probably did not always pass unavenged by the choleric 
sons of the principality. St. David's Day in London is 
now only celebrated by the society of Ancient Britons, who 
dine together to promote subscriptions for the Welsh Cha- 
rity-school in Gray'b-inn-road — a pleasant and laudable 
substitution for the old Catholic observances and the later 
fooleries of the mob, by which the anniversary has been 
celebrated, or rather disgraced. 

St. Patrick's Day, 17th March. — The following reason 
is assigned for wearing the shamrock on this day : when 
the saint preached the gospel to the Pagan Irish, he illus- 
trated the doctrine of the Trinity by showing them a trefoil, 
or three-leaved grass with one stalk, which operating to 
their conviction, the shamrock, which is a bundle of this 
grass, was ever afterward worn upon the saint's anniversary 
to commemorate the event. The natives of the sister 
island who reside in London now confer honour upon 
themselves and upon the day by dining together, and pro- 
moting donations for the cause of charity and the education 
of their poorer fellow-countrymen. 

Lady Day, 25th March. — The Roman Catholic feast of 
the Annunciation is commonly thus called in England. It 
is the high festival of Catholicism, which, in consequence 
of the extreme honours it pays to the Virgin Mary, has 
been sometimes termed the " Marian religion." At Rome 
it is celebrated with every possible magnificence and so- 
lemnity. In England it is only remembered as the first 
quarter-day in the year, and is therefore only kept by land- 
lords and tenants. ' 

Palm Sunday. — The Sabbath before Easter is thus 
L 



122 HOLYDAY NOTICES. 

denominated, because the boughs of palm-trees were carried 
in procession, in imitation of those which the children of 
Israel strewed before Christ. It was observed by the Catho- 
lics with much pomp and ceremony, the sacrament being 
carried upo«n an ass in solemn procession, accompanied by 
the choir and preceded by people strewing branches and 
flowers, all which Dr. Fulke thus stigmatizes : " Your Palm 
Sunday procession was horrible. idolatry, turning the whole 
mystery of Christ's riding to Jerusalem to a May-game 
and pageant play." Henry VIII. declared that the bearing 
of palms upon Palm Sunday was to be continued ; and it 
appears that they were borne in England till the second 
year of Edward VI. Palm Sunday still remains in our cal- 
endars ; in country places the children go out early in the 
morning to gather branches of the willow or sallow, with 
their gray velvet-looking buds, the only substitute for palm 
which our fields afford at this early season ; and in Covent- 
garden market there may be still found a basket-woman 
or two with palm, as they call it, for which they find a few 
customers on the Saturday before Palm Sunday. This 
remnant of the olden times will probably soon disappear 
altogether. 

Maundy Thursday, or the Thursday before Easter, has 
much exercised the ingenuity of antiquaries to account for 
its name, which however seems to have been derived from 
the old Saxon word mand or maundy signifying a basket, 
whence alms came to be called maundie. Thus then Maundy 
Thursday, the day preceding Good Friday, on which the 
king distributes alms to a certain number of poor persons 
at Whitehall, is so called from the maunds in which the gifts 
were contained. In imitation of Christ washing his disci- 
ples' feet, the kings and queens of England anciently 
washed and kissed the feet of as many poor men and women 
as they were years old, besides bestowing their maundy on 
each. James II. is said to have been the last of our mon- 
archs who performed this ceremony in person. It was after- 
ward done by the almoner, and is now discontinued. The 
present donations consist of fish, meat, bread, and ale, in 
the morning, to which are added silver pennies and clothing 
in the afternoon, after the evening service. 

Good Friday. — On this day was anciently performed the 
popish ceremony of creeping to the cross, in which, as it 



HOLYDAY NOTICES. 123 

appears from an old book of the ceremonial of the kings 
of England, the monarchs were accustomed to take a part, 
as well as the queen and her ladies. The image of the cru- 
cifix being dressed up so as to represent the Saviour, worship 
was made to it, accompanied with various offerings and su- 
perstitious observances. Nor was this all, for according to 
Googe's English version of Naogeorgus — 

Another image doe they get, like one but newly dead, 
With legges stretch'd out at length, and handes upon his body spreade, 
And him with pompe and sacred song they beare unto his grave, 
His body all being wrajit in lawne, and silks and sarcenet brave ; 
And down they kneele and kiss the grounde, their hands held up abrod, 
And knocking on their breastes, they make this wooden block a god. 

All this profane mummery having long since been swept 
away, we retain none of the external observances of Good 
Friday except the hot-cross-buns, the edible part of the old 
celebrations having, as usual, survived all the others. These 
buns are the ecclesiastical eulogice, or consecrated loaves, 
formerly bestowed in the church as alms, or given to those 
who from any impediment could not receive the host, and 
which were marked with a cross, like the buns that have 
succeeded to them. Mr. Bryant deduces the Good Friday 
bun from the bmin or sacred bread which used to be offered 
to the Pagan gods, even so far back as the time of Cecrops. 

All Fools' Day, 1st April. — Antiquarians have puzzled 
themselves and their readers in the attempt to account for 
the custom of fool-making ; but their researches seem to 
have established nothing except that the practice is very 
ancient and very general. Not only in various parts of 
Europe does it obtain, but according to Colonel Pearce, it is 
in full force among the Hindoos at the celebration of their 
Huli festival, which is kept on the 31st of March. We 
have before us a great display of learning in various pro- 
found theories upon the subject, but as we have already in- 
timated that they lead to no satisfactory or even plausible 
conclusion, we shall not further agitate the question, lest 
our readers should suspect that we mean to illustrate the 
practices of the day at their expense. 

Easter Day, a festival instituted to commemorate the 
resurrection of our Saviour, occurs on the first Sunday after 
the full moon which happens upon or next after the 21st 



12 1 HOLYDAY NOTICES. 

day of March ; and if the full moon happen upon a Sun- 
day, Easter Day is the Sunday after. The name is derived 
from our Saxon ancestors, who at this season held a great 
festival in honour of the goddess Easter, probably the 
Astarte of the eastern nations. It has ever been consid- 
ered by the church as a season of great festivity, and w^as 
signalized by extraordinary dramatic worship, with appro- 
priate scenery, machinery, dresses, and decorations ; the 
theatrical representations taking place in the churches, and 
the monks being the actors. Among many of the old trivial 
observances of this day we may note that the custom ot 
eating a gammon of bacon, still preserved in many parts of 
England, was intended to show an abhorrence of Judaism 
at this solemn commemoration of the Lord's resurrection. 
Eggs, sometimes stairjod of a red colour to symbolize the shed- 
ding of the Saviour's blood, were commonly given at Easter, 
a custom which the learned De Gebelin, in his religious His- 
tory of the Calendar, tells us maybe traced up to the theology 
and ph'!osophy of the Egytians, Persians, Gauls, Greeks, 
Romans, and other nations. Tansy cakes and puddings, 
in reference to the bitter herbs used by the Jews at this 
season, were eaten at Easter, and formed a common prize 
in the foot-races and games of hand-ball that prevailed at 
this season. Durand tell us that on Easter Tuesday wives 
used to beat their husbands ; on the day following the hus- 
bands their Avives. Probably both parties knew their de- 
serts, and this was intended as a mutual punishment and 
atonement for their Greenwich-park and other pranks and 
misdeeds on the previous day. 



HOLYDAY NOTICES. 125 



CHAPTER XL 

Holyday Notices concluded. 

" Come, let us go -while we are in our prime, 
And take the harmless foUie of the time ; 

We shall grow old apace, and die 

Before we know our liberty. 

Our life is short, and our days run 

As fast away as does the sunne, 
And, as a vapour or a drop of rain, 
Once lost can ne'er be found again ; 

So when or you or I are made 

A fable, song, or fleeting shade. 

All love, all liking, all delight 

Lies drown'd with us in endless night. 
Then, while time serves, and we are but decaying, 
Come, my Corinna, come, let's go a Maying." 

Herrick 

Nothing less than a new chapter will satisfy us. It 
Would have chilled our glowing hearts, it would have been 
felt as a profanation, had we, under the same section of our 
little work that detailed the miserable mistakes of God-dis- 
honouring and man-degrading superstition, attempted to 
describe the inimitable and transcendent glories of May- 
way, the great and beneficent festival of all-loving Nature. 
Disappear ! vanish ! begone from our pages for awhile, ye 
paltry pomps and idle mummeries of human institution ! 
Avaunt I for a brief space, all rites, ceremonies, sects, dis- 
tinctions, that have sown disunion and hatred among men ! 
—be dumb and stand rebuked ! ye pseudo-champions of 
Omnipotence, teachers of the omniscient Deity, who, making 
gods of yourselves, and climbing impiously into the judg- 
ment-seat, dare to pronounce upon your fellow-mortals, 
telling us who shall be saved and who shall be condemned. 
Learn humility and forbearance if ye can, for such is wis- 
dom — learn charity and universal love, for such is Chris- 
tianity, from this great festival of Nature, not narrowed by 
bigotry and intolerance to one sect, one religion, or even 
one nation, but diffused over the whole earth, as if our com 
L2 



126 HOLYDAY NOTICES. 

mon Father, by thus showing an equal regard for all man* 
kind a,s his children, would teach them all to love one an- 
other as brethren of the same family. Thus considered, 
May is the most instructive and religious, as well as the 
ttiost delightful of all our festival times. It seems to be the 
bridal season of heaven and earth, and the whole month is 
their honeymoon. Does not the festal earth look like a 
bride, all beautiful as she is, and wreathed with flowers 1 Is 
not the sky like a rejoicing bridegroom, radiant with sunny 
smiles and robed in gorgeous clouds of gold and ermine 1 
What nuptials were ever celebrated with such magnificence 
as these ? What festival was ever half so joyous 1 Every 
hill-top, garlanded like an altar, fumes with incense ; every 
place is spread with the materials of a present or a future 
banquet for all created races of men and animals ; the trees 
wave their palmy branches exultihgly in the bright air ; the 
winds issue forth from the orchestral sky, some to pipe mer- 
rily aloft, some to make music with the rustling leaves ; the 
streams, as they blithely dance along through the flowersj 
send forth a cheerful melody ; the feathered songsters and 
the lowing herds mingle in the hymeneal strain, and this 
choral epithalamium finds a titting bass in the deep-mouthed 
and sonorous sea. Oh ! what a festival is this ! How 
grand and solemn, even to sublimity, and yet how full of 
beauty, and happiness, and all-embracing love ! Alas ! that 
we should quit such a noble, such a heart-expanding jubi- 
lee to recur to the wretched inistakes of men, who, instead 
of imitating the wide benevolence of Nature, too often 
desecrate their holyday celebrations by hatred, intolerance, 
and superstition. But our task compels us, and we resume. 
Many of our old May-day observances were doubtless de- 
rived from the heathen celebrations in honour of the god- 
dess Flora, which consisted of licentious dances in the fields 
and woods, to the noise of trumpets. Thus it was the cus- 
tom both here and in Italy for the youth of both sexes to 
proceed before daybreak to some neighbouring wood, accom 
panied with music and horns, to gather branches of nose- 
gays, to return home about sunrise to deck their doors and 
windows with garlands, and to spend the afternoon in danc- 
ing around the May-pole, which, being placed in some 
conspicuous part of the village, stood there during the 
remainder of the year, as if it were consecrated tp the 



HOLYDAY NOTICES. 127 

goddess of flowers. Well might our ancestors, and all the 
northern nations, after their long winter, welcome the re- 
turning splendour of the sun with the banquet and the 
dance, and rejoice that a better season had approached for 
the fishing and the hunting. Nor were the May-pole dances 
restricted to our villagers. Stow tells us, in his Survey of 
London, that on May-day morning, " Every man, except 
impediment, would walk into the sweet meddowes and green 
woods, there to rejoice their spirits with the beauty and sa- 
vour of sweet flowers, and with the harmony of birds prais- 
ing God in their kinde." He subsequently adds, " I find 
also that in the month of May the citizens of London of all 
estates had their several Mayings, and did fetch in May- 
poles with divers warlike shows, with good archers, morrice- 
dancers, and other devices for pastime all the day long, and 
towards the evening they had stage-plays, and bonfires i n 
the streets." That Londoner must be a stout pedestrian, 
who can now walk to the sweet meadows and green woods, 
and ought to reckon upon a long holyday, for he might chance 
to be benighted before he found a branch of May. Some- 
times the May-pole was brought home from the woods with 
great pomp, being drawn by twenty or forty yoke of oxen, 
each having its horns garlanded with flowers, with which, 
as well as with branches, flags, and streamers, the pole 
itself was profusely wreathed and decked. When it was 
reared up, arbours and bowers were formed beneath it, the 
ground was strewed with flowers, "and then," says Stubbes, 
a puritanical writer of Queen Elizabeth's days, " they fall 
to banquet and feast, to leape and dance about it, as the 
heathen people did at the dedication of their idoUes, whereof 
this is a perfect pattern, or rather the thing itself." By 
an ordinance of the Long Parliament in April, 1644, all 
May-poles were taken down, and the games suppressed ; 
but they were again permitted after the Restoration. 

The author of a pamphlet entitled " The Way to Things 
by Words, and Words by Things," informs us that our an- 
cestors held an anniversary assembly on May-day, and that 
the column of May (whence our May-pole) was the great 
standard of justice on the Ey-commons or fields of May. 
Here it was that the people if they saw cause deposed or 
punished their governors, their barons, and their kings. 
The judge's bough, or wand, now discontinued, and only 



128 HOLYDAY NOTICES* 

represented by a trifling nosegay, and the staff or rod of 
authority in the civil and in the miUtary power (for it was 
the mace of civil power and the truncheon of the field-offi- 
cers) are both derived from hence. A mayor, he says, re- 
ceived his name from this May, in the sense of lawful power ; 
the crown, a symbol of dignity like the mace and sceptre, 
was taken from the garland or crown hung at the top of 
the May, the arches which sprung from the circlet and met 
together at the maund, or round bell, being necessarily so 
formed to suspend it from the top of the pole. 

" The Mayings," says Strutt, in his Sports and Pastimes, 
pubhshed so lately as 1801, "are in some sort yet kept up 
by the milkmaids at London, who go about the streets with 
their garlands and music, dancing ;" but even this faint 
shadow of the original sports has subsequently faded away, so 
that the green glories and flowery festivities of May-day 
only survive, if the grim show may not rather be deemed a 
posthumous and spectral pageant, in the saturnalia of the 
chimney-sweeping imps, who, with daubed visages, and be- 
dizened in tinsel trumpery, hop around a faded Jack-in-the- 
green, to the dissonant clatter of their shovels and brushes* 
Sad and sooty spectacle ! art thou indeed all that is left to 
us of the pristine May-day glories, and the merry pipe and 
tabor, and the blithe dances of the young men and damsels 
around the garlanded May-pole 1 It is even so ; we can 
now only send our thoughts into the green woods, and go a 
Maying with our memories. 

Rogation Sunday, the fifth after Easter, obtained its 
name from the succeeding Monday, Tuesday, and Wednes- 
day, called Rogation days, from the Latin word rogare, to 
beseech, which were first instituted by Mammertus, Arch- 
bishop of Vienne, -in Dauphine, about the year 469, in 
order to procure by these supplications deliverance from the 
earthquakes, fires, and wild beasts wherewith the city had 
been afflicted. Hence the whole week is called Rogation 
week. The singing of litanies along the streets during this 
week, accompanied with processions, continued till the Re- 
formation. At this period, as is still practised in some places, 
were made the parochial perambulations, to fix the bounds 
and limits of the parish ; a custom derived from the heathen 
feast dedicated to the god Terminus, the guardian of the 
fields and landmarks. One of our church homilies is com* 



HOLYDAY NOTICES. 129 

posed particularly for this ceremony, which we read in the 
life of the pious Hooker — " He would by no means omit per- 
suading all, both rich and poor, if they desired the preser- 
vation of love and their parish rites and liberties, to accom- 
pany him in his perambulation; when he would usually ex- 
press more pleasant discourse than at other times, and would 
then always drop some loving and facetious observations to 
be remembered against the new year, especially by the boys 
and young people."* 

Whitsuntide, or the feast of Pentecost, is compounded 
of the words white and Sunday, because the converts ;newly 
baptized appeared from Easter to Whitsuntide in white. 
The following lines in Googe's translation of Naogeorgus 
record one of the customs of the day : 

On Whitsunday, white pigeons tame in strings from heaven fly, 
And one that framed is of wood still hangeth in the skie ; 
Thou seest how they with idols play, and teach the people to ; 
None otherwise than little gyrles with puppets use to do." 

Mr. Fosbrooke remarks that this feast was celebrated m 
Spain with representations of the gift of the Holy Ghost, 
and of thunder from engines which did much damage. 
Water, oak-leaves, burning torches, wafers, and cakes were 
thrown down from the church-roof; pigeons and small 
birds with cakes tied to their legs were let loose ; and a long 
censer was swung up and down. Our Whitsun-ales were 
derived from the agapai, or love-feasts, of the early Chris- 
tians. For this purpose voluntary contributions were made, 
with which the churchwardens purchased malt, bread, and 
a quantity of ale, which they sold out in the church or else- 
where. The profits, as well as those derived from the 
games of dancing, bowling, shooting at butts, and the fool 
or jester, there being then no poor-rates, were given to the 
poor, who were thus provided for according to the Christian 
rule, that all festivities should be rendered innocent by alms. 
Greenwich, its fair, and the gambols of its far-famed hill, 
keep the frolics of Whitsuntide still fresh and vivid in the 
hearts of the Londoners. 

Restoration Day, 29th of May, is only here noticed as 
affording another proof how long holydays and observances 

* Walton's Lives 



I 30 HOLYDAY NOTICES. 

may survive, after the motives for their institution have 
ceased to operate, or even when others of a diametrically 
opposite tendency have sprung up. We retain an annual 
form of prayer to commemorate the restoration of a mon- 
arch whose reign gave hun little title to the respect of pos- 
erity, and whose family was expelled by an insulted and in- 
aignant people. It is recorded of some Pagan worthy who 
had conferred an important service on his native town, and 
was desired to name his own reward, that he requested the 
anniversary of his death might for ever be observed as a holy- 
day in the schools. What other service Charles II. ever 
conferred we know not, but our English schoolboys are at 
least indebted to that monarch for a sportive anniversary, 
and they may therefore stand excused, as they never scruti- 
nize too closely the rationale of a holyday, for getting up by 
daybreak to gather oak-apples, and even for going to the ex- 
pense of gold-leaf to bedizen them before they are stfjv'k 
into their hats. 

Midsummer Day. — The feast of St. John the Baptist, 
S4th of June, was anciently celebrated by bonfires, and by 
carrying lighted torches, as an emblem of St. John the Bap- 
tist, who was a burning and a shining light. Upon this 
occasion the people leaped through the flames with many 
superstitious observances, against which a canon was issued 
by the council of Trullus. For a typical reason, sufficiently 
obvious, the period of the summer solstice has been cele- 
brated in various nations, and from the remotest antiquity by 
bonfires ; vestiges, perhaps, of the ancient worship of Baal 
and Moloch. As an additional emblem of the sun, it was 
customary in England to bind an old wheel round about 
with straw and tow, to take it to the top of some hill at night, 
to set fire to the combustibles, and then roll it down the de- 
clivity. These ceremonies were attended with dancing and 
other pastimes. The many superstitious customs practised 
by the credulous on St. John's eve, and the marvellous vir- 
tues attributed to the plant Hyperictim pidchrum, or St. 
John's wort, will scarcely repay the trouble of recording 
them. 

St. Peter's Day, 29th of Sx»*ke. — Stow tells us that the 
rites and sports of St. John the Baptist's eve, were also 
used on the eve of St. Pgter and St. Paul. 

Lammas Day 1 st oi August. — The feast of St. Peter 



HOLYDAY NOTICES 131 

ad vincvla. For the term " Lammas" various derivations 
have been assigned by antiquaries, but the most plausible 
conjecture makes it a contraction of Lamb-mass, because 
on that day the tenants who held lands under the cathedral 
church in York w^hich was dedicated to St. Peter ad vincula 
were bound by their tenure to bring a live lamb into the 
church at high mass. 

Assumption of the Virgin Mary, 15th of August — a 
high festival of the Romish church, was observed in many 
places with extraordinary rejoicings and pomp of theatrical 
worship, in representation of the Assumption. The vast 
unoccupied space in our old cathedrals, for which the mod- 
ern spectator is sometimes unable to account, was the thea- 
tre wherein these spectacles and shows were performed by 
the monks, assisted by ponderous machinery, which required 
a capacious area for working it. On Assumption Day it 
was customary to implore blessings upon herbs, plants, 
roots, and fruits ; in allusion to which Googe, translating 
from Naogeorgus, has the following lines : — 

The blessed Virgia Marie's feast hath here his place and time, 
Wherein departing from the earth she did the heavens clime; 
Great bundles then of herbs to church the people fast do beare, 
The which against all hurtful things the priest doth hallow theare ; 
Thus kindle they and nourish still tlie people's wickednesse, 
And vainly make them to believe whatsoever they expresse. 
For sundry witchcrafts by these herbs are wrought, and divers charms, 
And cast into the fire are thought to drive away all harmes. 

It is amusing to see Naogeorgus condemning the ignorant 
people for their credulity, and yet implying his own belief 
in witchcraft. Thus each age laughs at the mistakes of its 
precursor, as each in turn will probably be laughed at by its 
successor. 

St. Roche's Day, 16th of August. — The phrase "sound 
as a roach," is thought to have been derived from the 
legends and attributes of this saint, who devoted himself to 
the sick, and was deemed the patron of all who were 
afflicted with the plague. His festival on this day was 
kept like a wake, or general harvest-home, with dances in 
the churchyard in the evening. We have already observed, 
in commenting on the Jewish feast of Tabernacles, that 
the season of harvest seems always and every where to 
bave been kept as a festival, to express joy and gratitude for 



132 HOLYDAY NOTICES. 

having gathered in the fruits of the earth. In imitation of 
the Jews, the heathens had their harvest-feast, in which 
they participated with the labourers and the servants who 
had assisted them in getting in the crops ; the Saxons had 
the same custom, always setting aside a week after harvest 
for holydays ; and our festive harvest-home is but a contin- 
uation of the ancient practice. On these occasions it was 
usual in the popish times to dress up a figure of com, which 
was brought home from the field in a cart, the men and 
women dancing around it to the music of the pipe and 
tabor. " Harvest-home is still the greatest rural holyday 
in England : but our holyday-making is not what it was. 
Our ancestors used to burst into an enthusiasm of joy at 
the end of harvest, and appear even to have mingled their 
previous labour with considerable merrimaking, in which 
they imitated the equality of the earlier ages. They crowned 
the wheat-sheaves with flowers, they sung, they shouted, 
they danced, they invited each other, or met to feast, as at 
Christmas, in the halls of rich houses ; and what was a 
very amiable custom, and wise beyond the commoner wis- 
dom that may seem to lie on the top of it, every one that 
had been concerned — man, woman, and child — received a 
Httle present of ribands, laces, or sweetmeats."* 

Nativity of the Blessed Virgin, 8th of September. — 
This Roman Catholic festival, which, according to Butler 
and other Romish writers, has been kept about a thousand 
years, with matins, masses, collects, processions, and other 
ceremonies, is still retained in the Church of England cal- 
endar and almanacs. It is observed with much pomp in 
Spain and Italy, and indeed generally by the Marian reli- 
gionists, who place greater reliance on the efficiency of the 
Virgin's mediation than on that of our Lord himself. 

Holy Rood Day, 14th of September, was instituted on 
account of the recovery of a large piece of the Cross, or 
Holy Rood, by the Emperor Heraclius, after it had been 
carried away on the plundering of Jerusalem, by Chosroes, 
king of Persia, about the year of Christ 615. It appears^ 
to have been the custom to go a nutting upon this day, 
which was formerly a holyday with the boys of Eton School, 
in order that they might go out and gather nuts, with apor- 

* The Months, by Leigh Hunt 



HOLYDAY NOTICES. 133 

tion of which they were to make presents to the different 
masters. It was ordered, however, that before this leave 
be granted them, they should write verses on the fruitful- 
ness of autumn, and the deadly colds, &c., of advancing 
winter. Holy Cross day appears in our almanacs and 
calendars. 

Michaelmas Day, Quarter Day, 29th of September — ap- 
pointed in honour of St. Michael and all the orders of an- 
gels — was always a grand festival in the Romish Church ; 
for, as the saint from whom it was named was the only 
archangel, it was held proper to celebrate his anniversary 
with extraordinary splendour. An expositor on the Com- 
mon Prayer-book tells us, that the feast of St. Michael and 
all Angels was instituted that the people may know what 
benefits are derived from the ministry of angels.* As hea- 
thenism has its tutelar deities for particular countries, towns, 
and places, so the Romanists assigned patron saints and 
angels, not only to these, but to professions, trades, and to 
each member of the human body, besides invoking separate 
saints against various diseases, and even making them 
guardians over different animals. f The custom of eating a 
goose on this day is usually attributed to the circumstance 
that Queen Elizabeth was feasting upon one on Michael- 
mas Day, when she received the news of the defeat of the 
Spanish Armada ; but this only proves that the practice 
then prevailed, and it is known to be not only much more 
ancient than Elizabeth's time, but to have obtained in other 
countries. Antiquaries have exhausted conjecture and 
research upon this subject ; but it seems hardly necessary 
to seek any other origin for the custom, than the simple 
fact that stubble geese are at this season in their highest 
state of perfection. 

All Saints, 1st of November, is the festival of those 
saints to whom, on account of their number, particular 
days could not be allotted in their individual honour. It 
was observed, as well as its vigil on the previous one, by a 
feast, of which apples, nuts, and lamb's-wool were deemed 
indispensable ingredients. 

All Souls' Day, 2d of November. — This festival, still 

* Wheatley. 

t Lists of each may be found in Ellis's Edition of Brand, art. MU 
efia^lmas. 

M 



134 HOLYDAY NOTICES. 

retained in the almanac and Church of England Calendar, 
has been celebrated by the western churches ever since the 
year 998. It was observed by prayers for the dead, in re- 
membrance of whom persons dressed in black went round 
the different towns, ringing a loud and dismal-toned bell at 
the corner of each street, every Sunday evening during the 
month ; and calling upon the inhabitants to remember the 
deceased who were suffering the expiatory flames of purga- 
tory, and to join in prayers for the repose of their souls. 

Powder Plot, 5th of November. — This anniversary, 
observed by a strict form of prayer, and kept as a holyday 
at all the public offices, is a great day in the Church of 
England calendar. Bishop Sanderson, in one of his ser^ 
mons to the people, says, " God grant that we nor ours eve^ 
live to see November the fifth forgotten, or the solemnity 
of it silenced !" If, by the solemnity, the good bishop 
simply meant the thanksgiving prayer, we might agree 
with him ; but if he intended to recommend a preservation 
of the riotous processions, bonfires, and burnings in effigy 
on the part of the mob — and a sermon to the people points 
at this conclusion — we should venture to dissent from him. 
Not only are these tumultuous proceedings highly objec-^ 
tionable on account of the numerous accidents to which they 
give occasion, and the disgraceful scuffles and skirmishes 
with which they have so often been accompanied, but they 
afford a sort of sanction to Protestants for insulting, hating, 
and ridiculing the Catholics, a much more numerous class 
of Christians' than themselves, and inculcate therefore a 
feeling of bigotry and intolerance which is in direct opposi- 
tion to the spirit of Christianity. As tending to a breach 
of the peace, these mob revels ought to be deemed illegal ; 
as calculated to imbitter and prolong religious differences, 
they ought to be made an indictable profanation. If the 
crimes of an individual were to afford an excuse for per- 
petually outraging a whole class, what sect would escape 
persecution 1 Not one ; the religion of peace would be an 
incessant war. It is fortunate that the anniversary fool- 
eries of this day are falling fast into desuetude. Let us 
hope that they will soon be utterly forgotten, or only re- 
membered to be reprobated. Now that our Roman Catho- 
lic brethren are at length admitted to a full participation 
in theiif civil and political rights, it is high time that thin 



ttOLYDAY NOTICES. 135 

Oily Fawkes's persecution should be also discontinued, for, 
paltry and contemptible as it is, it generates heart-burning 
and hatred. Protestants and CathoUcs should now forget 
their mutual mistakes, and endeavour, by a future brother- 
hood in love, to make atonement for past animosity ; a happy 
and truly Christian consummation of which dawnings may 
already be perceived by him who watchfully peruses the 
signs of the times. 

Lord Mayor's Day, 9th of November. — Once a grand 
civic festival and pageant; the glories and triumphs of 
which, performed by giants, extolled by laureates, and re- 
corded by historians, are but dimly shadowed forth in the 
comparatively meager pomp of modern celebrations. 

Martinmas, 11th of November, takes its name from " the 
great St. Martin, the glory of Gaul," who lived in a rock at 
Tours, and fed upon nothing but roots, a diet which the ob- 
servers of his festival have by no means thought proper to 
imitate. At this period it was customary to kill the cattle, 
which were cured for the winter, during which fresh provi- 
sions were seldom or never to be had-^a circumstance that 
afforded excuse for holding a sort of secondary carnival. The 
entrails of the slaughtered animals, filled with a kind of pud- 
ding meat, were formed into sausages and black puddings, 
of which a great feast was made, particularly in Germany, 
a country that has still retained its fame for the manufacture 
of these savoury edibles. The feast of St. Martin is a day 
of debauch upon the continent, the sausages and other 
viands being washed down with the new wines which are 
then begun to be tasted. 

Christmas.— The author of the " Convivial Antiquities" 
says, that as the heathens had their Saturnalia in December, 
their Sigillaria in January, and the Lupercalia and Baccha- 
nalia in February, so among Christians the interval between 
the Nativity and the Epiphany is devoted to feastings and 
revellings of all kinds. New-year's gifts and changes of 
clothes, or mummery, are also Pagan customs of the season. 

On the vigil, or preceding eve of Christmas, it was cus- 
tomary with our ancestors to light up candles of an un- 
common size, and lay a log of wood upon, the fire called a 
Yule-log, to illuminate the house and, as it were, turn 
night into day. The following occurs in Herrick's Hee- 
perides, p. 309. 



136 HOLYDAY NOTICES. 



CEREMONIES FOR CHRISTMAS. 

Come bring with a noise, my merry, merry boys, 

The Ch.islmas log to the firing, 
While my good dame she— bids ye all be free. 

And drink to your heart's desiring. 

With the last yeer's brand— light the new block, and 

For good success in his spending, 
On your psaltries play— that sweet luck may 

Come while the log is teending. 

Drink now the strong beare, cut the white loafe here, 

The while the meat is a shredding. 
For the rare mince-pie, and the plums stand by, 

To fill the paste that's a kneeding. 

From Barnaby Googe's translation of Naogeorgus, we 
learn that the solemnities began immediately after midnight, 
when three masses were sung by the priests. 

This done, a woodden child in clowtes is on the aultar set, 
About the which both boyes and gyrles do daunce and nimbly jet; 
And carrols sing in praise of Christ, and for to help them heare, 
The organs aunswere every verse with sweete and solemne cheare; 
The priests do rore aloude, and round about the parents stand, 
To see the sport, and with their voyce do helpe them, and their hande. 

The Christmas carol (derived from cwniare to sing, and 
rola^ an interjection of joy) is of very ancient date. Bishop 
Taylor observes, that the " Gloria in excelsis," the well- 
known hymn sung by the angels to the shepherds at our 
Lord's nativity, was the earliest Christmas carol. In former 
ages bishops were accustomed to sing these pious cmticles 
among their clergy. Warton tells us, that in 1521 Wyn- 
kyn de Worde printed a set of Christmas carols. " These 
were festal chansons, for enlivening the merriments of the 
Christmas celebrity ; and not such religious songs as are 
current at this day with the common people, under the 
same title, and which were substituted by those enemies of 
innocent and useful mirth, the puritans. The boar's head, 
soused, was anciently the first dish on Christmas day, and 
was carried up to the principal table in the hall with great 
state and solemnity, to the chanting of a special carol, 
which Wynkyn de Worde has given us in the miscellany 
just mentioned."* At this season it was customary for the 

* Ellis's edition of Brand's Popular Antiquities, vol. i. p. 375. 



HOLYDAY NOTICES. 137 

<5handlers to give candles to their customers, and for the 
bakers to present to them the yule-cake, a kind of baby or 
little image in paste, the origin probably of our mince-pies. 
Among the ancient Romans the laurel was an emblem of 
peace, joy, and victory ; whence it has been conjectured we 
have taken the custom of dressing up our houses with laurel, 
as an emblem of joy for the victory gained over the powers 
of darkness, and of that peace on earth and good-will 
towards men which the angels sang over the fields of 
Bethlehem.* Other evergreens were subsequently added. 
The misletoe, however, as a heathenish and profane plant, 
appertaining to the rites of druidism, was never admitted 
into churches, but was hung up in kitchens, subjecting every 
female who passed under it to a salute from any young man 
who was present. The Christmas-box was a box contain- 
ing the money gathered against this season, that masses 
might be said by the priests to obtain forgiveness for the 
debaucheries committed by the people. Servants had the 
liberty to collect box-money, that they too might be enabled 
to pay the priest for his masses ; knowing well the truth of 
the proverb — "No penny, no paternosters." Hence our 
modern Christmas-boxes. 

" Our ancestors" — we quote from a paper in The World, 
No. 104 — " considered Christmas iii the double light of a 
holy commemoration and a cheerful festival ; and accord- 
ingly distinguished it by devotion, by vacation from busi- 
ness, by merriment arid hospitality. They seemed eagerly 
bent to make themselves and every body about them happy. 
The great hall resounded with the tumultuous joys of ser- 
vants and tenants, and the gambols they played served as 
amusement to the lord of the mansion and his family, who, 
by encouraging every act conducive to mirth and entertain- 
ment, endeavoured to soften the rigour of the season, and 
mitigate the influence of winter." The hobby-horse, the 

* Ellis's edition of Brand's Popular Antiquities, vol. i. p. 375. That 
we might not encumber our page, we have only occasionally stated 
<3ur authorities for these brief holyday notices. They have been princi- 
pally Brand's Popular Antiquities, edited by Ellis ; Strutt's Sports and 
Pastimes ; Malcolm's Customs of London ; Fosbrocke's British Mona- 
chism; Douce's Illustrations of Shakspeare; and Hone's Every-day 
Book; to which latter, a work equally replete with information and 
amusement, the reader who wishes to see the subject more fully illus* 
ttated way refer without fear of disappointment. 
M2 



138 HOLYDAY NO'riCES* 

mummeries, the morris-dancers, the lord of misrule, with 
other merry sports and pastimes that gave a zest to the 
feast, and accelerated the circulation of the wassail-bowl, at 
this the greatest festival of the year, will be hereafter mor6 
particularly noticed. 

As usual in most of our festivals, the edible and potable 
celebrations have survived all the others, or constitute the 
sole portions that are observed with any of the ancient zeal. 
These accessories have in fact become principals. The 
waits, or watchmen, who sounded the watch, and perambu* 
lated the streets during winter to prevent depredation, have 
nominal descendants, who may still be occasionally though 
rarely heard, stealing pleasantly upon the midnight silence, 
and startling the drowsy ear with the sweetness of their 
dreamlike and mysterious melody ; but these invisible min* 
strels of the Nativity, lacking an appropriate echo to their 
silver sounds, will, it is to be feared, soon follow into oblivion 
the lord of misrule, the abbot of un-reason, the morris- 
dancers, the hobby-horse, and other by-gone functionaries 
of the Christmas pantomime. Mince-pies, however, still 
maintain a savoury remembrance in our mouths ; but the 
boar's head, holding with its teeth a lemon for its own sea- 
soning — once the symbol of good cheer, and the favourite 
sign of taverns and cooks'-shops— has been dethroned from 
its eminence, and has long ceased to crown the festive board. 
It has been superseded by the turkey ; which, being intro'- 
duced about the time of the Reformation, became connected 
with the new observances of the reformed religion, without 
any other apparent claim than that it attains its fattest and 
most luxurious state about the time of Christmas. From 
an historical account of Norwich, we learn that between 
Saturday morning and Sunday night of Christmas, 1793, 
one thousand seven hundred turkeys, weighing nine tons 
two cwt., were sent from that single town to London, and 
two days after half as many more. 

Let the external decorations and the superficial forms of 
this anniversary fade and fall into desuetude, or be replaced 
with newer glories, as fashion and caprice may dictate ; but 
let not the spirit of Christmas, at once holy and festive, 
ever evaporate from our feelings, or be chilled by a non-ob" 
servance of this happy season. Let the laurel — the symbol 
of peace and good-will-^be green in our hearts, though it no 



HjOLYDAY NOTICES. 



m 



longer adorn our parlours. A proper observance of the 
prescribed religious duties, hospitality and social brother- 
hood ; an interchange of love — ^promoting presents ; the 
festive board ; the blazing fire ; the moderate bowl, enli- 
vened by music, wit, and Song ; the harmless sports and 
pastimes for which none are too old who find a reflected 
pleasure from delighting the young, or who can renew, 
even for a single evening, the pleasant memories of their 
own childhood ; but above all, that enlarged philanthropy 
which prompts us to look beyond our own circle of smilmg 
faces, and to light up a similar gladness in the cottages of 
the poor by seasonable acts of charity— these are the ob- 
servances which every man, to the extent of his ability, is 
strictly bound to maintain ; for they constitute the noblest 
way in which a Christian can commemorate the Founder of 
that religion which inculcates universal love. 

Of the festivals and holydays prescribed by our ancient 
ritual we ha b ?nly noticed a portion. Most of these had 
their vigil, or previous eve, which was celebrated with festive 
observances ; so tnat when we add to this long list the nu- 
merous wakef and fairs, and merrimakings, of which we 
catch frequent glimpses through the mist of antiquity, we 
are apt to think that mankind, at least in the lower orders, 
were much happier then than they are now, an impression 
which often prompts us to give vent to our feelings by an en- 
thusiastic eulogy of " the good old times." This golden age, 
however, can only be found in chronology, when we shall 
have fixed the exact spot occupied by Plato's Atlantis, or 
Sir Thomas More's Utopia. Our old Christmas gambols 
and tumultuous revelries, like the Saturnalia, from which 
they were borrowed, were only destined to reconcile the 
people to their habitual wretchedness and degradation by a 
short season of i iot. They derived their great attraction 
from the poverty -md privation of the inferior classes, who 
rarely tasted fresh meat in the summer ; while in the winter 
their best fare w^s salted ling and other coarse fish, whjch 
even in noblemc's families formed the ordinary diet of the 
servants. The greater the hardships and oppressions of 
life the more hitense is the delight of their transient forget- 
iulness, whether it proceed from the drunkenness of the 
bowl, or the intoxication of holyday mirth. The Christmas 
tui^eys, the roast-beef, the plum-pudding, nay, even the 



140 



HOLYDAY NOTICES^ 



vegetables, were once rarities and expensive luxuries, which 
were coveted with an avidity, and enjoyed with a delight, 
commensurate with their cost and scarcity. Most of these, 
except to the abjectly poor, are now within reach of at least 
occasional procurement, and their great attraction has van- 
ished since they ceased to be dainties of rare occurrence. 

If our humbler classes be incalculably superior to their 
predecessors in the essential comforts of food, clothing, fiiel, 
and lodging, their advantages are still more distinctly marked 
with reference to intellectual gratifications. Theatres, read- 
ing-rooms, newspapers, magazines, reviews, novels, and me- 
chanics' institutions, which the diffusion of education enables 
all ranks to enjoy, have substituted for occasional fooleries and 
mummeries, and stated periods of public revelry, domestic 
habitual fireside recreations of an infinitely higher order, 
and not less delightful, because they are not periodically ob- 
truded upon our attention. The industrious operative, who 
can now command these every -day comforts as a right, 
earned by his honest exertions, wants not the frantic ex- 
travagance of the carnival, and scorns to depend for his 
enjoyments either upon gratuitous holydays, or eleemo- 
synary feastings. A fortnight's frolic he would disdain to 
accept with a twelvemonth's subjection. He knows that 
he is no longer a vassal or a serf ; and this very feeling of 
independence is a perpetual feast to his heart, worth all that 
were ever celebrated or registered even in the overloaded 
calendar of the Romanists 



FIELD SPORTS. 14: 



CHAPTER XII. 

Field Sports. 

" The wood resounds to hear the hounds, 

Hey, nony, noiiy-no, 
The rocks report this merry sport, 

Hey trolilo, trololilo. 
The hunt is up — the hunt is up, .- - 

Sing merrily we— the hunt is up. 

Then hie apace unto the chase, 

Hey, nony, nony-no. 
While every thing doth sweetly sing, 

Hey trolilo, trololilo. 
The hunt is up — the hunt is up, ■• 

Sing merrily we— the hunt is up." 

Old Song. 

Field sports are, perhaps, the most ancient of all bodily 
exercises. Upon this point the holy Scripture agrees with 
the fabulous traditions of the poets, for it tells us that Nim- 
rod was a " mighty hunter before the Lord," and it is wor- 
thy of remark, that he was the first who oppressed an; 
enslaved his own species. Hunting, proscribed in the h(\ 
of Moses, is apotheosised in the Pagan theology, under the 
special patronage of Diana. In the early ages of the world, 
it was a necessary labour of self-defence, rather than a 
pastime. To protect the flocks, herds, and crops from the 
ravages of those beasts which were in a state of natural 
hostility to man was a measure of the first urgency. 
Some of these wild animals supplied a wholesome food, the 
skins of nearly all were valuable for clothing, and thus inter- 
est soon began to add new incentives to the task of hunting. 
By the law of their nature the different species destroyed 
one another, and man destroyed them all, availing himself 
for this purpose of the advantages ensured to him by the 
possession of reason, and calling to his assistance all the 
resources of art. Every nation has practised hunting ; but 
it has invariably been addicted to it in exact proportion to 
the want of civilization. With barbarians it is a business^ 



142 I'lELD SPORTS. 

on which they often depend for food and necessaries ; m a 
more advanced state of society, when this excuse no longer 
exists, and when it is solely directed against inoffensive 
creatureSj it becomes a wanton cruelty. 

Among the ancients, whose paramount object was to adapt 
themselves to the violent times in which they lived, by all 
such pursuits as might accustom them to the fatigues and 
the stratagems of war, field sports were deemed an honour- 
able and useful exercise. Xenophon, not less distinguished 
as a soldier than as a philosopher, has not thought it beneath 
him to write a minute treatise on this subject, in which he 
enlarges upon its advantages in promoting courage, strength, 
and swiftness, in inuring the body to hardships and pri- 
vations, while it habituates the mind to perseverance, and 
the final conquest of all difficulties and impediments. 
Opinions, however, upon this subject varied at different 
epochs, both with the Greeks and Romans. In the time 
of Sallust hunting was held in sovereign contempt, and his 
martial countrymen, so far from thinking it of an ennoblmg 
and warlike nature, and therefore fit to be restricted to the 
aristocracy, abandoned the pursuit to their slaves. 

According to natural right, all men are equally entitled to 
participate in field sports, in acknowledgment of which in- 
herent right it seems to have been an established maxim in 
the early ages of the world, that the property of such things 
as had no masters, such as beasts, birds, and fishes, was 
vested in those who could first secure them. The civil 
right of each nation to modify the law of nature imposed 
certain restrictions on this unlimited privilege. Solon for- 
bade hunting to the Athenians, because it enticed them 
away from more useful pursuits ; but this enactment was 
subsequently abrogated. By the Roman law game was never 
deemed an exclusive property; every man might sport, 
either over his own land or his neighbour's, but in the latter 
case it was necessary to obtain permission. 

When the Roman empire was overrun by the Goths and 
Vandals, these illiterate barbarians, bringing with them a 
stronger taste for field sports, and having no other resource 
to beguile the tedium of peace and inoccupation, after they 
had secured their conquests, began to appropriate the privi- 
lege of hunting to their own chiefs and leaders, and, instead 
of a natural right, to make it a royal one. Thus it con* 



FIELD SPORTS. 143 

tinues to this day, the right of hunting belonging only to 
the king and those who derive it from him. That this 
monstrous usurpation and the ruthless regulations by which 
it is supported should originate with barbarians need excite 
little surprise ; that so sanguinary an oppression should 
be retained in an era claiming to be enlightened, and by 
people professing to be Christians, is an anomaly that 
proves how completely some of our antiquated Gothic insti- 
tutions are at variance with the spirit of the age, and the 
general state of civilization. 

Hunting constituted an essential part of the education of 
a young English nobleman so early as the ninth century, 
and probably long before it. Although it had not been 
thought necessary to teach Alfred the Great his letters be- 
fore he was twelve years of age, we learn from his biogra- 
pher that he was already " a most expert and active hunter, 
and excelled in all the branches of that most noble art." 
When his grandson, Athelstan, had obtained a signal vic- 
tory over Constantine, King of Wales, he imposed upon 
him a yearly tribute of gold, silver, and cattle, to which was 
added a certain number of hawks, " and sharp-scented 
dogs fit for hunting of wild beasts." Deriving their origin 
from the same source as the Saxons, the Danes evinced a 
similar predilection for the pleasures of the chase ; and 
Canute imposed several restrictions upon the pursuit of 
game, which were equally severe and unprecedented. 
During the short restoration of the Saxons, field sports 
maintained their ascendency. Edward the Confessor, 
though he vvas more of a monk than a monarch, " took the 
greatest delight to follow a pack of. swift hounds in pursuit 
of game, and to cheer them with his voice."* He was 
equally pleased with hawking, and every day after Divine 
service he spent his time in one or other of these favourite 
pastimes. Harold, his successor, rarely travelled without 
his hawk and his hounds, which, indeed, were the usual 
companions of a nobleman at this period. 

But it was during the tyrannical government of William 
the Norman and his immediate successors that the game- 
laws assumed their most oppressive and cruel character. 



page 



* Will. Malmsbury, cap. yiii. as cited in Strut's Sports and Pastimes. 
ge4. 



144 FIELD SPORTS. 

Under the pretext of hindering the destruction of the game, 
but in reality to prevent popular resistance to the new gov- 
ernment, they disarmed the people ; while they reserved the 
exclusive right of hunting and sporting to the king, and to 
those on whom he should bestow it, who were only his 
barons, chiefs, and feudatories. This was part and parcel 
of the feudal system,* exercised over a conquered nation, 
and well adapted, perhaps, to the ferocious and ignorant 
victors who delighted in a sport which, by its pursuit and 
slaughter, bore some resemblance to war. In all feudal con- 
stitutions, the commonalty are forbidden from carrying arms, 
as well as from using dogs, nets, snares, or other engines 
for destroying the game. A law so unnatural, and one 
which there was such constant temptation to infringe, 
could only be enforced by the most sanguinary and inhuman 
edicts ; and we find, therefore, that the Norman conqueror 
exercised the most horrid tyrannies, not only in the ancient 
forests, but in the new ones which he made by overthrow- 
ing churches and villages and depopulating whole tracts 
of country. To destroy any of the beasts of chase within 
the wide limits of these royal hunting grounds was as penal 
as the death of a man ; a stag, indeed, although only kept 
to be killed for pastime, was deemed a much more valuable 
life than that of a peasant ; and even the dogs of the poor 
obtained more lenient treatment than their owners. Ail 
those found in the royal chases, except such as belonged to 
privileged persons, were simply subject to be maimed, by 
having the left claw cut from their feet, unless they were 
redeemed by a fine. In extension of this usurped right of 
royalty. King John laid a total interdict upon the winged 
as well as the four-footed creatures : capturam avium par 
totam Angliam interdixit, says Matthew Paris. By the 
charters extorted from this odious tyrant, many of the royal 
enclosures were disafforested or stripped of their oppressive 
privileges, while the general regulations touching the fercB 
naturce were considerably modified in their severity. Such 
was the worthy origin of our game-laws, whereof enough 
still remains to make them a demoralizing curse to the 
-.ommonalty, and a crying shame to the legislature. 

* Some of the tenants held their lands upon condition of finding men 
to beat the country, and attend the lord when he went out on a hunting 
excursion. 



FIELD SPOUTS. 14^ 

The despotism of the monarch in all that bore relation 
to field sports soon began to be imitated by the nobles, on. 
whom was devolved the royal cruelty as well as right, as 
we learn from a vnriter of the twelfth century, when the 
rigour of the law was somewhat abated. " In our time," 
says the author, " the nobility think it the height of worldly 
felicity to spend the whole of their time in hunting and 
hawking; accordingly they prepare for them with more 
solicitude, expense, and parade than they do for war ; and 
pursue the wild beasts with greater fiiry than they do the 
enemies of their country. By constantly following this 
way of life, they lose much of their humanity, and become 
as savage nearly as the very beasts they hunt. Husband- 
men, with their harmless herds and flocks, are driven from 
their well-cultivated fields, their meadows, and their pas- 
tures, that wild beasts may range in them without interrup- 
tion." And he continues, addressing himself to his unfor- 
tunate countrymen ; " If one of these great and merciless 
hunters shall pass by your habitation, bring forth hastily all 
the refreshment you have in your house, or that you can 
readily buy or borrow from your neighbours, that you may 
not be involved in ruin, or even accused of treason."* 

" Edward III. took so much delight in hunting, that even 
at the time he was engaged in war with France and resident 
in that country, he had with him sixty couple of stag- 
hounds and as many hare-hounds, and every day amused 
himself with hunting or hawking."f Many of the great 
lords in the army had hounds and hawks as well as the 
king, and Froissart, an eye-witness of the fact, tells us that 
Gaston, Earl of Foix, a foreign nobleman, contemporary 
with King Edward, kept upwards of six hundred dogs in 
his castle for the purpose of hunting. 

This passion for the chase soon extended itself to the 
clergy, the bishops and abbots of the middle ages going out 
to hunt in great state, with a large retinue of servants and 
retainers, and some of them becoming celebrated for their 
skill in this fashionable pursuit ; a propensity for which 
they are frequently rebuked by contemporary poets and 
moralists. Chaucer, who lost no opportunity of taunting 
the priesthood, frequently accuses the monks of being much 

* Johan. Sarisburiensre, lib. i. cap. 4. as cited by Strutt, p, 6. 
t Strutt, from Froissart's Clironicle, i. cap. 210. 

N 



1-46 FIELI> SPORTS. 

more addicted to riding, hunting, hawking, and blowing the 
horn than to the performance of their religious duties. 
There must have been good ground for this censure, for in 
the thirteenth year of Richard II. an edict prohibited any 
priest or other clerk not possessing a benefice to the yearly 
amount of ten founds, from keeping a greyhound or any 
other dog for the purpose of hunting : neither might they 
use " ferrits, hayes, nets, harepipes, cords, or other engines 
to take or destroy the deer, hares, or rabbits, under the 
penalty of one year's imprisonment." This enactment wais 
in the perfect spirit of the game-laws, for it did not affect 
the dignified clergy, who retained their ancient privileges, 
which were so extensive that Henry II., in order to restrain 
the prerogatives of these sporting ecclesiastics, enforced 
against them the canon law, by which they were forbidden 
to indulge in such pastimes. But these haughty and plea- 
sure-loving priests were not to be thus baffled. In their 
own parks and enclosures they retained at all times the 
privilege of hunting, and took good care, therefore, to have 
such receptacles for game attached to their priories. The 
single see of Norwich, at the time of the Reformation, was 
in possession of no less than thirteen parks, well stocked 
with deer and other animals of chase. 

It appears that some of the sporting monks of France, 
perhaps as a salvo to their consciences, contrived to spiritual- 
ize the chase, and to render it subservient to the purpose 
of teachmg the ten commandments, and of eschewing the 
seven deadly sins. This ancient moralization is termed 
*' Le Livre du Roy Modus, et de la Royne Ratio, lequel fait 
mention comment on doit deviser de toutes manieres de 
Chasse, &c." — Chambery, 1486 — folio. To judge by the 
title, this work would seem simply to relate to hunting, 
hawking, &c., but some of the manuscript copies give, in a 
more ample rubric, a notion of its nature ; thus — " Le 
Livre du Roy Modus, qui, sous les termes de la Chasse des 
Bestes de toute Espece, moralise les dites bestes, les dix 
commandemens de la loy, les sept peches mortels, &c." 
Another French work is cited by Marchand, in which 
Christ's passion is moralized, and applied to the chase of the 
«tag. 

In former times the ladies often joined the hunting par- 
Jjes-, Queen Elizabeth was extremely fond, of the chasev 



FIELD SPORTS. iil 

***Her majesty," says a courtier, in a letter dated the 13th 
of September, 1600 — when she had just entered the seventy- 
seventh year of her age — " is well and excellently disposed 
to hunting, for every second day she is on horseback, and 
continues the sport long." When she visited Lord Monte- 
cute at Cowdrey, in Sussex, we are told that " Her high- 
ness tooke horse and rode into the park at eight o'clock in 
the morning, where was a delicate bowre prepared, under 
the which were her highnesses musicians placed; and a 
crossbow by a nymph, with a sweet song, was delivered 
into her hands, to shoote at the deere : about some thirty in 
number were put into a paddock, of which number she 
killed three or four, and the Countess of Kildare one."* 

Fitzstephen, who wrote in the reign of Henry H., says 
that the Londoners delighted themselves with hawks and 
hounds, for they had the liberty of hunting in Middlesex, 
Hertfordshire, all Chilton, and in Kent to the waters of 
Grey : but towards the close of the sixteenth century these 
exercises seem to have been discontinued, not for want of 
taste for the amusement, says Stow, but of leisure to pursue 
it. Strype, however, so late as the reign of George L, 
reckons among the modern amusements of the Londoners 
*' Riding on horseback and hunting with my lord mayor's 
hounds, when the common hunt goes out."t Of these 
venatorial glories of the citizens nothing more remains but 
the Easter Monday stag-hunt in Epping Forest, and the 
civic officer who still retains the functionless name of Mr. 
Common Hunt. 

According to the ancient books of the practice of sports- 
men, the seasons for hunting were as follows : The time of 
grace begins at Midsummer, and lasteth to Holyrood-day 
(14th of September). The fox may be hunted from the 
Nativity to the Annunciation of our Lady (25th of March) , 
the roebuck from Easter to Michaelmas ; the roe from 
Michaelmas to Candlemas (2d of February) ; the hare from 
Michaelmas to Midsummer ; the wolf, as well as the fox, 
and the bear, from the Nativity to the Purification of our 
Lady (2d of February). 

The birds and animals that were specifically interdicted 
9s game varied according to the caprice of the legislators, 

* Nichols's Progresses, vol. ii. 

t Striitt's Sports and Pastimes, p. 13. 



148 FIELD SPORTS. 

In Scotland the last act of the prohibitory kind before the 
accession of James to the EngHsh crown is found in 1690. 
It is remarkably minute, and describes by name nineteen 
sorts of game, which are neither to be bought nor sold, on 
penalty of one hundred pounds. It closes with a limitation 
as to the time of beginning "to eat moor poute, or partridge 
poute." 



CHAPTER XIII. 

Field Sports : — Hawking, Archery. 

" A thousand vassals muster'd round, 
With horse and hawk, and horn and hound; 
And I might see the youth intent 
Guard every pass with crossbow bent ; 
And through the brake the rangers stalk, 
And falc'ners hold the ready hawk ; 
The startled quarry bounds amain 
As fast the gallant greyhounds strain.; 
Whistles the arrow from the bow, 
Answers the arqnebuse below ; 
While all the rocking hills reply 
To hoop-clang, hound, and hunters' cry, 
And bugles ringing lightsomeiy." 

ScoWs Marmion. 

As hawking can never have been adopted from necessity^ 
or in self-defence, like hunting, it is of course much less 
ancient. Many ages would doubtless elapse before it was 
.discovered that this species of bird could be trained to pur- 
sue and catch game, and the practice therefore does not lay 
claim to any very remote antiquity. Pliny alludes to some- 
thing of the sort as having preva;iled in Thrace, but his 
meaning is too obscure to allow us to decide that it was 
hawking, according to modern notions of that pastime. 
Where it was first exercised is not exactly known, nor at 
what precise era it came into vogue ; but it is mentioned by 
a Latin writer of the fourth century, and is affirmed by some 
to have been borrowed by the Romans from the Britons, as 
early as the reign of Vespasian. About the middle of the 
eighth century, Boniface, Archbishop of Mons, who w,a« 



HAWKING. 149 

himself a native of England, presented to Ethelbert, King 
of Kent, one hawk and two falcons ; and a king of the 
Mercians requested the same Boniface to send him two 
falcons that had been trained to kill cranes ; so that at this 
period the art must have been better understood in France 
than in England. Harold, afterward King of England, is 
painted going on a most important embassy with a hawk on 
his hand, and a dog under his arm ; and even females of 
distinction were occasionally tl\us represented, as we know 
from an ancient sculpture in the church of Milton Abbas, in 
Dorsetshire, where the consort of King Athelstan appears 
with a falcon in her fist tearing a bird. The Welsh had a 
raying in very early times, that you may know a gentleman 
by his hawk, horse, and greyhound. Alfred the Great, who 
is commended for his proficiency in this, as in all other 
fashionable amusements, is said to have written a treatise 
upon the subject, which, however, has not come down to 
us ; from various other sources, nevertheless, we are enabled 
to assert, that the pastime continued to be in high favour to 
the end of the Saxon era. 

In France hawking seems to have been'prosecuted'with 
more ardour, and sustained with still greater state and 
ceremony than in England. From the capitularies of the 
eighth and ninth centuries we learn that the grand faucon- 
nier was an officer of great eminence ; his annual salary 
was 4000 florins, he was attended by fifty gentlemen and 
fifty assistant falconers, w^s allowed to keep three hundred 
hawks, licensed every vender of those birds, and received a 
tax upon all that w^ere sold. We have recorded the number 
of hounds that our Edward III. carried with him when 
he invaded France, and we may now add, on the same 
authority (Froissart), that he had besides thirty falconers on 
horseback, who had charge of his hawks ; and that every 
day he either hunted or went to the river to hawk, as his 
fancy inclined him. From the frequent mention of hawk- 
ing by the waterside, in the writers of the middle ages, we 
may conclude that the pursuit of aquatic fowl afforded the 
most diversion. Falconry appears to have been carried to 
great perfection, and to have been extensively pursued in 
the different countries of Europe about the twelfth century, 
when it was the fayourite amusement not only of kings and 
aoblesj but of ladies of distinction, and of the clergy, who 
.. N2 



150 FIELD SPORTS. 

attached themselves to it not less zealously than they had 
done to hunting, although it was equally included in the 
prohibiting canons of the church.* For several ages no 
person of rank was represented without the hawk upon his 
hand, as an indisputable criterion of station and dignity ; 
the bird of prey, no inappropriate emblem of nobility in the 
feudal ages, was never suffered to be long absent from the 
wrist. In travelling, in visiting, in affairs of business, oi 
of pleasure, the hawk remained still perched upon the hand, 
which it stamped with distinction. A German writer of 
the fifteenth century severely reprobates the indecency of 
his countrymen in bringing their hawks and hounds into 
the churches, and interrupting Divine service. The passage 
is thus translated by Alexander Barclay : 

Into tlie church then comes another sotte, 
Withouten devotion jetting up and down, 
For to be seene, and showe his garded cote. 
Another on his fiste a sparhawke or fawcone, 
Or else a cokow, wasting so his shone; 
Before the aulter he to and fro doth wander. 
With even as great devotion as doth a gander j 
In comes another, his houndes at his tayle, 
With lynes and leases, and other like baggage; 
His dogges bark ; so that withouten fkyle, 
The whole church is troubled by their outrage. 

To part with the hawk, indeed, even in circumstances of 
the utmost extremity, was deemed highly ignominious. By 
the ancient laws and capitularies of France, a knight was 
forbidden to give up his sword and his hawk, even as the 
price of his ransom. These two articles were too sacred to 
be surrendered, although the liberty of their owner depended 
upon them. Another proof of the high estimate attached 
to the bird of prey is the singular punishment denounced 
against those who should dare to steal one : Si quis accep- 
torem alienum involare prcBsumpserit, aut sex uncias carnis 
■acceptor ipse super testones comedat, aut certi, si noluerit, sex 
solidos illi cujus acceptor est, cogatur exsolvere, mulctce. autem 
nomine solidos duos. 

* " In the reign of Edward III. the Bishop of Ely excommunicated 
certain persons for stealing a hawk that was sitting upon her perch in 
the cloisters of Bermondsey, in Southwark ; but this piece of sacrilege 
was committed during Divine service in the choir, and the hawk was 
the property of the bishop."— 5'fra«, vol. i. p. 34. 



HAWKING. 151 

In the fields and open country hawking was followed on 
liorseback ; and on foot when in the woods and coverts. 
In the latter case it was usual for the sportsman to have a 
stout pole with him to assist hun in leaping over rivulets and 
ditches ; and we learn from Hall, that Henry VHL, pursu- 
ing his hawk on foot, at Hitchen, in Hertfordshire, was 
plunged into a deep slough by the breaking of his pole, and 
would have been stifled but for the prompt assistance of one 
of his attendants. 

How highly these birds were appreciated may be gathered 
not only from the severity of the laws to which we have 
briefly alluded, but from the prices occasionally recorded to 
have been given for them. At the commencement of the 
seventeenth century, a goshawk and tassel-hawk were sold 
for 100 marks, a large sum in those days. It is further said 
that in the reign of James I. Sir Thomas Monson gave 
lOOOZ. for a cast of hawks. Nor would money always 
command these precious birds. Federigo, the hero of Boc- 
cacio's ninth novel, although he had spent all his substance, 
refused to part with his favourite hawk ; and when his mis- 
tress is unportuned by his son to beg it of him, she replies, 
"How can I send or go to ask for this hawk, which I hear 
is the very best of the kind, and what alone maintains him 
in the world? Or how can I ojffer to take away from a 
gentleman all the pleasure he has in life?" The author 
doiibtless intended to impress us with the most exalted 
notion of Federigo's gallantry and devotion to his mistress, 
when, in his inability to purchase other viands, he makes 
him kill and dress this favourite hawk for her entertainment, 
— a sacrifice for which he is represented as not being inade- 
quately remunerated by the lady's hand and fortune. In 
the book of St. Alban's, the sort of birds assigned to 
the different ranks of persons are placed in the following 
order : 

The eagle, the vulture, and the merloun for an emperor. 

The ger- falcon, and the tercel of the ger- falcon for a king- 

The falcon gentle, and the tercel gentle for a prince. 

The falcon of the r-ock for a duke. 

The falcon peregrine for an earl. 

The bastard for a baron. 

The sacre and the sacret for a knight. 

The lanere and the laneret for an esquire. 



152 FIELD SPORTS, 

The marlyon for a lady. 
The hobby for a young man. 
The goshawk for a yeoman. 
The tercel for a poor man. 
The sparrow-hawk for a priest. 
The musket for a holy-water clerk. 
The nesterel for a knave or a servant. 
Exclusively of these appropriate terms for the different 
birds, falconry had its peculiar or slang language, which is 
scarcely worth the trouble of transcription. Many of its 
phrases, using an old device of cruelty, seem intended to 
conceal as far as possible the revolting inhumanity that 
pervaded the whole art of hawking. Thus, " to seal a duck," 
was to put out its eyes before it was thrown up as a lure ; 
sometimes the eyes were only partially sealed or sewn up, 
allowing it still to see backwards, by which contrivance the 
victim is kept continually mounting, and afforded the bet- 
ter exercise to the hawk, and sport to the spectator. To 
let a hawk " plume and break" the fowl, is to suffer it to 
tear and mangle the live pullets on which it is fed ; but we 
refrain here or elsewhere from entering into any detail of 
the barbarities too often practised in field sports of all 
sorts, coinciding as we do in the opinion of Boerhaave, that 
to teach the arts of cruelty is equivalent to committing 
them. 

The invention of gunpowder, by which so many and 
such important changes were operated, had a marked effect 
upon hawking, the practice rapidly declining from the 
moment the fowlingpiece presented a more ready and cer- 
tain method of procuring game, while it afforded an equal 
degree of air and exercise, and saved the immense expense 
of training and maintaining the birds. No wonder that 
under these circumstances the fall of falconry, which had 
for so many ages been the favourite pastime of the aristoc- 
racy, should be sudden and complete. Hentzner, who wrote 
his Itinerary, A.D. 1598, assures us that hawking was the 
general sport of the English nobility ; at the same time 
most of the best treatises upon the subject were written ; 
shortly afterward the sport was rarely practised, and in a few 
years more was hardly known. 

The falcons or hawks that were in use in these kingdoms 
are now found to breed in Wales, and in North Britain and 



ARCHERY. 153 

•its isles. The peregrine falcon inhabits the rocks of Caer- 
narvonshire. The same species, with the gyrfalcon, the 
gentil, and the goshawk are found in Scotland, and the 
lanner in Ireland. In such high esteem was the Norwe- 
gian breed of hawks formerly held, that they were thought 
bribes worthy a king. JeofFrey Fitzpierre gave two good 
Norway hawks to King John to obtain for his friend the 
liberty of exporting one hundred weight of cheese ; and 
Nicholas the Dane was to give the king a hawk every 
time he came into England, that he might have free liberty 
to traffic throughout the king's dominions. Many of the 
nobility also held their estates under the crown by the tenure 
of hawks and falcons. Before we dismiss this subject, we 
may note that the Mews at Charing-cross are so called 
from the word mew, which in the falconer's language is the 
name of a place wherein the hawks are put at the moulting 
time, when they change their feathers. The king's hawks 
were kept at this place as early ;ds the year 1377, but in 
the time of Henry VIII. it y»«8^convorted into stables for 
that monarch's horses, and' the hawks were removed. Lat- 
terly the Duke of St. Alban's, hereditary grand falconer, has 
imported hawks from Gfermany, and has attempted to revive 
*'the noble art of falconry ;" the expense, however, of a 
hawking establishment is so considerable, and the sport 
itself so little adapted to an enclosed country, that the ex- 
ample does not seem likely to be extensively followed. 

Instructions in the angler's art are generally appended 
to the treatises upon hunting ; but as even Strutt, the 
elaborate historian of English sports and pastimes, could 
not find any particulars sufficiently deviating from the 
modern modes of taking fish to find a place in his work, 
still less can they be expected in a volume like the present. 
The reader requiring information upon this subject may 
be referred to Izaak Walton, of whose favourite art, how- 
ever its features may be disguised by making them wear 
the mask of poetry, piety, and pastoral, the present writer 
has little inclination to become the teacher, even if he were 
qualified for the task. 

ARCHERY. 

From the moment when the flocks and wild animals fled 
;at the approach of man, there was felt an urgent need of 



154 FIELD SPORTS. 

some weapon which, without danger or fatigue to the hunter, 
should enable him to outstrip the fleetest and destroy the 
most formidable of the roving quadrupeds. Necessity is the 
mother of invention : every tree would supply a bow and 
arrow, the entrails of beasts furnished a string, and thus 
was procured a rude instrument of destruction, which was 
<3oubtless the first ever wielded by man, unless the club and 
the stone may be termed weapons. In the total absence of 
records for fixing the era of so remote a discovery, the fabu- 
lists and poets have, as usual, been prodigal of conjectures 
and assertions. Different classical writers assign the honour 
of the invention to Apollo, who is certainly the most re- 
nowned bowman of antiquity ; to Perses, the son of Per- 
seus ; and to Scythes, the son of Jupiter, the founder of the 
Scythian kingdoms, in some parts of which the bow remains 
in use as a warlike weapon even at the present time. A 
Latin poet not only attributes the first invention of these 
arms to the example of the quill-darting porcupine, but in 
the flights of his fan3y is enabled to trace to the same source 
the well-known Parthian mode of warfare. However base- 
less may be his theory, his description of the porcupine is 
sufficiently imaginative to justify a short extract : 



-Stat corpore toto 



Silva minax, jaculisque rigens in prselia crescit : 

Picturata seges 

-crebris propngnat jactibus ultro. 



Interdum fugiens Parthorum more sequentem 
^ Vulnerat. Interdum, positis velut ordine castris, 

* Terrificum densa mucronem verberat unda ; 

Et consanguineis hastillbus asperat armos. 
* * * * quidquid prociil appetit hostem 
Hinc reor inventum ; morem hinc traxisse Cydouas 
Bellandi, Parthosque, retro didicisse ferire 
Prima sagittiferae pecudis documenta secutos. 

Claudian, p. 236. 

Unfortunately for this ingenious theorj'', it is now ascer- 
tained that the porcupine has no such projectile power as 
has been vulgarly bestowed upon it, the quills never being 
detached except at the time of moulting, when they are 
propelled from the body with a slight jerk. Conjectures 
upon a subject buried in such a dense obscurity are but a 
waste of time. It is sufficient to state that the bow was 
the most ancient and the most common of all weapons. 
Ishmael, we are told, became a wanderer in the desert, and 



ARCHERY. 155 

an archer: so were the heroes of Homer ; and the warriors 
of every age and country have been acquainted with the 
use of sirnihir arms. 

At what time this instrument was first brought into Eng- 
land we have no means of determining ; but there is reason 
to conclude that it was not used by the Britons at the time 
of JuHus Csesar's invasion, since it is not enumerated among 
the arms of the natives, in the minute description of them 
given by tJjat author. From the second book of the Com- 
mentaries we know that Csesar had both Numidian and 
Cretan archers in his army, when he encountered the Belgae 
in Gaul ; and it is therefore reasonable to suppose that he 
made use of the same troops when in Britain, about two 
years afterward, and thus first introduced the bow and 
arrow into our island as an instrument of war, of which the 
Romans continued the use until their final departure about 
the year 448. If the poems of Ossian, who is supposed to 
have lived about three centuries after Csesar, may be cited 
as any authority, we shall perceive that the bow was then 
formed of yew, and was constantly wielded by the northern 
warriors and hunters. " Go to thy cave, my love, till our 
battle cease on the field. Son of Leith, bring the bows of 
our fathers ! the sounding quiver of Morni ! Let our three 
warriors bend the yew."* 

About the year 449, when the Saxons came to the assist- 
ance of the Britons, they are said to have brought with 
them both the long and the crossbow ; and during the Hep- 
tarchy we find that OfTrid, son of Edwin, King of Northum- 
bria, was killed by an arrow in a battle which was fought 
about the year 633, near Hatfield in Yorkshire. Excepting 
this fact, little relating to the bow appears in our annals of 
the Saxon era ; but their successors, the Danes, were great 
archers. Alfred the Great, when concealed in the peasant's 
cottage, suffered the cakes to burn while he was preparing 
his bow, arrows^ and other warlil-ie instruments ; and Poly- 
dore Virgil, speaking of the troops commanded by Alfred, 
says a great number of archers were placed in the right 
wing of the army. This weapon, therefore, must have been 
long established in the island ; and yet some of our histo- 
rians tell us that at the battle of Hastings the English wer* 

*Vol. i.p. 120, 



156 FIELD SPORTS. 

entirely ignorant of the effect of archery, and were struck 
with astonishment at finding death inflicted upon them, 
while the enemy were yet at a distance. Speed observes 
that the first discharge of arrows from the Norman army 
" was a kind of fight both strange and terrible unto the Eng- 
lish, who supposed their enemy had been already even in the 
middest among them." Echard expresses the same senti- 
ment, adding that the Norman long-bow was a weapon then 
unused in England. Sir J. Hayward* says, that this instru- 
ment was first brought into the land by the Normans, and 
that afterward the English, being trained to the practice of 
it, became the best shooters in the world. Ross, in his 
Chronicle, confirms the former part of this statement. t 

Under the Norman government the practice of archery 
was not only much improved but generally diffused through- 
out the kingdom. We meet, however, no circumstance ap- 
pertaining to it worthy of particular record until the time of 
Henry II., in whose reign archery seems to have been first 
carried into Ireland, and to have been employed with such 
effect against the natives, that it mainly contributed to the 
English conquests. At this period the Welsh were the 
most formidable wielders of the long-bows, of which Giral- 
dus Cambrensis cites several instances, some of them 
curious enough to excuse an extract, though the reader may 
perhaps think that the historian is himself using the wea- 
pon he describes. " During a siege," says this ancient wri- 
ter, " it happened that two soldiers running in haste towards 
a tower situated at a little distance from them, were at- 
tacked with a number of arrows from the Welsh ; which 
being shot with prodigious violence, some penetrated through 
the oak doors of a portal, although they were the breadth 
of four fingers in thickness. It happened also in a battle 
at the time of William de Breusa (as he himself relates), 
that a Welshman having directed an arrow at a horse-sol" 
dier of his who was clad in armour, and had his leather coat 
under it, the arrow, besides piercing the man through the 
hip, struck also through the saddle, and mortally wounded' 
the horse on which he sat. Another Welsh soldier having 

* History of the Norman Kings. 

t Moseley gives the following quotation : " Ipse (Willielmus) ustun 
longorum arcuum et sagittarum in Angliam primus inducehat, cum eie 
Angliam conqucstione vincens."^— CAron. /. Rossi, p. 109. 



ARCHERY. 157 

shot an arrow at one of his horsemen, who was covered with 
strong armour in the same manner as the before-mentioned 
person, the shaft penetrated through his hip, and fixed in 
the saddle ; but what is most remarkable is, that as the 
horseman drew his bridle aside in order to turn round, he 
received another arrow in his hip on the opposite side, which 
passing through it, he was firmly fixed to the saddle on both 
sides."* Of the great power and precision with which ar- 
rows may be discharged we have better evidence than is 
a^orded by the questionable exploits of Wilham Tell, Robin 
Hood, and the marvellous archer recorded in D'Herbe- 
lot's Bibliotheque Orientale : " qui tira une fleche du haut 
de la montagne de Damavend, jusque sur les bords du fleuve 
Gihon." Lord Bacon says, " The Turkish bow giveth a 
very forcible shoot, inasmuch as it hath been known that 
the arrow hath pierced a steel target, or a piece of brass, of 
two inches thick V'—Nat. Hist. Exp. 704, vol. iii. Mr. Bar- 
rington, in his Essay inserted in the Archssologia, relates a 
tradition that one Leigh, an attorney at Wigan in Lanca- 
shire, shot an arrow a mile at three flights. This surpasses 
the feat of the Turkish ambassador who, in the fields near 
London, and in the presence of Mr. Strutt, shot an arrow 
With a round wooden head upwards of four hundred and 
eighty yards from the standing. Carew, speaking of the 
Cornish archers two centuries back, says, that the butts for 
long shooting were usually placed at a distance of four hun- 
dred and eighty yards, adding that their cloth-yard shafts 
would pierce any ordinary armour. 

It is uncertain whether the arrow which proved fatal to 
William Rufus were discharged from a long-bow or cross- 
bow, but both were in extensive use at the battle of Cressy, 
on which occasion the latter was used by a large body of 
Genoese soldiers who fought on the side of the French ; but 
the strings of their arbahsts, being relaxed by a heavy stonn 
which happened just before the engagement, were rendered 
nearly unfit for service, while the English long-bows, being 
kept in their cases during the rain, did not receive the small- 
est injury, f From a passage in Stow, we find that Richard II. 

*The original Latin of tiiis marvellous passage is givenin Moselev's 
Essay on Archery, p. 223. = o . j- 

t Bayle, explaining the difference between testimony and argument, 
draws an admirable illustration from these two weapons. " Testimony/* 



158 FIELD SPORTS. 

had a numerous guard of archers ; for, in the year 1397, 
as the members were one day leaving the parUament-hoUse, 
*' a great stir was made as was usual ; whereupon the king's 
archers, in number four thousand, compassed the parliament- 
house, thinking there had been some broil or fighting, with 
their bows bent, their arrows notched, and drawing ready 
to shoot, to the terror of all that were there : but the king 
coming pacified them." In the battle gained over the Scots 
at HalUdown Hill, in the year 1402, the historian tells us 
that " the Lord Percie's archers did withall deliver their 
deadly arrowes so lively, so couragiously, so grievously, 
that they raune through the men-of-armes, bored their hel- 
mets, pierced their very swords, beat their lances to the 
earth, and easily shot those who were more shghtly armed 
through and through." 

The signal victory of Agincourt, in 1415, is equally as- 
cribed to the English archers, who destroyed a great num- 
ber of French cavalry by their yard-long arrows ; and this 
seems to be the last important action that was decided by the 
use of archery. Gunpowder since its first invention had 
been confined to cannon, of which Edward is said to have 
had four pieces at the battle of Cressy ; but small arms, 
first brought into use by the Venetians in 1382, were soon 
rapidly diffused throughout Europe, and archery, although 
it continued in our armies during several succeeding reigns, 
was at length cultivated more as an amusement than for 
real military service. Although it is in this point of view 
that it falls more immediately within the scope of our work, 
it will naturally present to us fewer materials worthy of re- 
cord than when, by deciding the fate of mighty battles, it 
arrested the attention of historians and annalists. It ap- 
pears to have been a fashionable sport during the reign of 
Henry VIII., who, we are told by HoUinshead, shot as well 
as any of his guard. Edward VI. and Charles I. are known 
to have been fond of this exercise, which retained its attrac- 
tions during the succeeding reigns, and was occasionally 
Sustained by the presence and practice of the sovereign. 
The artillery company, or Finsbury archers, revived in 1610, 
retained the use of the bow as well as their place of exer- 

he says, "is like the shot of a long-bow, which owes its efficacy to the 
force of the shooter ; argument is like the shot of the crossbow, equally 
forcible wJiether discharged by a dwarf or a giant." 



ARCHERY. 159 

else. So lately as the year 1753, targets were erected in 
the Finsbury fields, during the Easter and Whitsun holy- 
days, when the best shooter was styled captain for the en- 
suing year, and the second, lieutenant. Towards the close 
of the late century, archery again started into sudden fa- 
vour as an amusement, and numerous companies were 
formed, which, after being maintained with great zeal for a 
short time, yielded in a few years to the caprices of fashion, 
and have now, we believe, with some few exceptions, totally 
disappeared.* 

" The exact time in which the bow became disused in war 
by the English army cannot, perhaps, be fixed. P. Daniel 
mentions that arrows were shot by the English at the Isle 
of Rhe, in 1627. Mr. Grose informs us, that in 1643 the 
Earl of Essex issued a precept " for stirring up all well-af- 
fected people by benevolence, towards the raising of a com- 
pany of archers for the service of the king (Charles I.) and 
the parliament." "And in a pamphlet," says the same 
author, " which was printed anno 1664, giving an account 
of the Marquis of Montrose against the Scots, bowmen are 
repeatedly mentioned."! 

As an appendix to this slight historical sketch of archery, 
we may briefly notice a few of the statutes formed at differ- 
ent times for its regulation and encouragement. As early 
as the beginning of the twelfth century, a law freed from 
the charge of murder any one who, in practising with 
arrows or darts, should kill a person standing near. In the 
thirteenth century, every person not having a greater annual 
revenue in land than one hundred pence, was compelled to 
have in his possession a bow and arrows ; and all such as 
had no possessions, but could afford to purchase arms, were 

* Moseley in his Essay on Archery, published in 1792, gives the follow 
ing as the principal societies then existing : 

The Hon. Artillery Company. Southampton Archers. 
Royal Edinburgh. Bowmen of Cheviot Chase. 

Toxophilite. Kentish Rangers. 

Woodmen of Arden. Woodmen of Hornsey. 

Royal Kentish Bowmen. Surrey Bowmen. 

Royal British Bowmen. Bowmen of the Border. 

Robin Hood Bowmen. Mercian Bowmen. 

Loyal Archers. Broughton Archers. 

Yorkshire Archers. Staflfordshire Bowmen 

Hainault Foresters. Trent Archers, 

t Moseley's Essay, p. 231. 



160 FIELD SPORTS 

commanded to have a bow with sharp arrows if they dwelt 
without the royal forests, and a bow with round-headed ar- 
rows if they resided within the forests. In the reign of 
Richard II. an act was made to compel all servants to shoot 
on Sundays and holydays. Henry IV. ordained by a law» 
that the heads of arrows should be well boiled and brazed, 
and hardened at the points with steel, under pain of for- 
feiture and imprisonment. Henry V. ordered the sheriffs 
of several counties to procure feathers from the wings of 
geese, picking six from each goose. In the time of Edward 
IV. every Englishman was ordered to provide himself with 
a bow of his own height, and butts were directed to be put 
up in every township, for the inhabitants to shoot at on feast- 
days. In the reign of Henry VII. the crossbow was for- 
bidden by law to be used, and so much importance was still 
attached to the use of the long-bow, even so late as the 33d 
Henry VIII., that a statute of that date directs that all men 
under sixty (except spiritual men, justices, &c.) shall use 
shooting with the long-bow, and shall have a bow and arrow 
ready continually in the house. It was also enacted, that 
no person under the age of twenty-four should shoot at a 
standing mark, except it be a rover, where he may change 
his ground every shot. And no person above twenty-four 
shall shoot at any mark of eleven score yards, or under, with 
any prick-shaft, or flight-arrow, under pain of 6s. 8d. pen- 
alty for every shot. 

Besides making laws in favour of archery, Henry VIII. 
instituted a chartered society for the practice of shooting, 
under the name of the Fraternity of St. George, at whose 
exercises he sometimes attended. It is said, that one day 
having fixed a meeting of them at Windsor, a person of the 
name of Barlow far outshot the rest, which pleased the 
king so much that he saluted him with the name of Duke 
of Shoreditch, of which place the man was an inhabitant.* 
This dignity was long preserved by the captain of the 
London archers, who used to summon the officers of his 
several divisions by the titles of Marquises of Barlow, 
Clerk enwell, Islington, Hoxton, Earl of Pancras, &c. 
Hollinshead, who wrote in the sixteenth century, laments 
the decay of archery in his time, and thus praises the bow- 

* Bowman's Glory, p. 41. 



ARCHERY. 161 

caen of King Edward's days. " In times past the chief 
force of England consisted in their long-bows, but now we 
have in a manner generally given over that kind of artillery, 
and for long-bows indeed do practise to shoot compass for 
our pastime. Cutes, the Frenchman, and Rutters, deriding 
our new archery in respect to their croslets, will not let, in 
open skirmish, to turn up their tails and cry — shoote, Eng- 
lishmen ! and all because our strong shooting is decayed 
and laid in bed ; but if some of our Englishmen now lived 
that served Edward III., the breech of such a varlet should 
have been nailed to him with an arrow, and another fea- 
thered in his bowels." 

Even so late as the reign of Elizabeth, it remained a 
doubt with many which was the most advantageous weapon, 
the matchlock or bow ; a question which will not appear 
surprising, when we consider that the former was at that 
period very cumbersome in weight, and unskilful in con- 
trivance, while archery had been carried to the highest state 
of perfection. Mr. Grose informs us, that an archer could 
formerly shoot six arrows in the time necessary to charge 
and discharge a musket ; and even in modern days, a prac- 
tised bowman has been known to shoot twelve arrows in a 
minute, into a circle not larger than the circumference of a 
man's hat, at the distance of forty yards. Sir John Hay- 
ward observes, that a horse struck with a bullet, if the 
wound be not mortal, may perform good service ; but if an 
arrow be fastened in his flesh, the continual irritation pro- 
duced by his own motion renders him utterly unmanageable ; 
and he adds, that the sight of a shower of arrows is much 
more appalling to the soldier than the noise of artillery. 
Archers usually performed the duty of our sharpshooters, 
occupying the front, and retiring between the ranks of the 
lieavy-armed men as the battle joined. In later times, 
being armed with a shield, a sword, and javelins, as well as 
a bow, they were not afraid to venture into the midst of the 
battle. Mention is made, in the reign of Edward III., of 
two hundred archers on horseback ; and in the seventh year 
of Richard II. the bishop of Norwich offered to serve the 
king abroad with 3000 men-at-arms and 2500 archers, well 
horsed and appointed. Henry VIII.'s attendants at the 
meeting of the ^eld of gold cloth were principally mounted 
archers, carrying their long-bows with them. 
03 



162 FIELD SPORTS. 

It is a mistake, in the opinion of Mr. Douce,* to suppose 
that yews were planted in the churchyards for the purpose 
of making bows, for which the more common materials were 
elm and hazel. It is by no means improbable, that the 
superstition of our ancestors planted yews in the church- 
yards for their supposed virtue in warding off evil spirits, or 
as a protection against the fury of the winds, which might 
otherwise injure or unroof the sacred building. Accord- 
ingly, in a statute made in the latter part of the reign of 
Edward I., to prevent rectors from cutting down the trees 
in churchyards, we find the following passage : " verum 
arbores ipsse, propter ventorum impe .us, ne ecclesiis noceanty 
sape plantantur." 

Convinced, as we are, that the practice of archery pos- 
sesses in point of health and exercise all the diversion and 
advantages of field sports, without their cruelty to animals 
and demoralizing oppression to our fellow-creatures, we 
shall conclude our chapter with an extract from a writer 
in whose sentiments upon this subject we folly concur. 
" That archery possesses many excellences as an amusC' 
ment will require little trouble to prove. It is an exercise 
adapted to every age and every degree of strength ; it is not 
necessarily laborious, as it may be discontinued at the mo- 
ment it becomes fatiguing; a pleasure not to be enjoyed by 
the hunter, who, having finished his chase, perceives that 
he must crown his toils with an inanimate ride of forty 
miles to his bed. Archery is attended with no cruelty. It 
sheds no innocent blood, nor does it torture harmless ani- 
mals, charges of which lie heavy against some other 
amusements. ^^ 

" It has been said that a reward was formerly offered to 
him who could invent a new pleasure. Had such a reward 
been held forth by the ladies of the present day, he who 
introduced archery as a female exercise would have de- 
servedly gained the prize. It is unfortunate that there are 
few diversions in the open air in which women can join 
with satisfaction ; and as their sedentary life renders mo- 
tion necessary to health, it is to be lamented that such 
suitable amusements have been wanting to invite them. 
Archery has, however, contributed admirably to supply this 

* Ulustiation of Sbakspeare. vol. i. 196. 



BULL-FIGHTS. 163 

I 
■defect, and in a manner the most desirable that could be 
wished. But I do not intend to sing the praises of this 
elegant art in their full extent. I subjoin a wish, however, 
that it may be universally cultivated and approved ; and 
may we see the time when (with Statins) it can be said, 
' Pudor est nescire sagittas ;' it is a reproach to be unskilful 
with the bow." — Moscley^s Essay on Archery, p. 180. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

Bull-Fights and Baiting of Animals. 

" Each social feeling fell, 
And joyless inhumanity pervades 
And petrifies the heart." 

Thomson's Spring. 

Although we have expressed an intention of restrictmg 
■ourselves chiefly to the sports of our ovsm country, we can 
hardly leave unnoticed a subject so celebrated and so long 
connected with romantic and chivalrous associations as the 
bull-fights. The Spaniards, who have always been the 
most celebrated for this cruel diversion, generally dedicated 
their bull-feasts to St. John, the Virgin Mary, &c., never 
seeming to entertain the smallest suspicion that they were 
desecrating the patron, instead of sanctifying the iidiuman 
sport, by a conjunction so incongruous. According to some 
writers, the people of the Peninsula derived this sport from 
the Moors, among whom it was exhibited with great idat. 
Dr. Plot is of opinion that the Thessalians, who first insti- 
tuted the game, and of whom Julius Cassar learned and 
brought it to Rome, were the origin both of the Spanish 
and Portuguese bull-fighting and of the English bull-baiting. 
In the Greek bull-fights, several of these animals were 
turned out by an equal number of horsemen, each combatant 
selecting his bull, which he never quitted till he had over- 
powered him. Some authors maintain, that in consequence 
of a violent plague at Rome, chiefly occasioned by eating 
bull's flesh, the Taurilia were established so early as the time 
of Tarquinius Siiperbus, who justly dedicated them to the 



164 BULL-FIGHTS AND 

infernal gods. At all events, the practice maintained itself 
in Italy for many ages. It was prohibited by Pope Pius V., 
under pain of excomznunication incurred ipso facto; but 
succeeding popes have granted several mitigations on 
behalf of the Torreadores. 

From the foUow^ing account of a bull-feast in the coli- 
seum at Rome, 1332, extracted from Muratori by Gibbon, 
the reader may form some idea of the points, the ceremo- 
nies, and the danger which attended these exhibitions : — 
" A general proclamation as far as Rimini and Ravenna 
invited the nobles to exercise their skill and courage in this 
perilous adventure. The Roman ladies were marshalled 
in three squadrons, and seated in three balconies, which 
on this day, the 3d of September, were lined with scarlet 
cloth. The fair Jacova di Rovere led the matrons from 
beyond the Tiber ; a pure and native race, who still represent 
the features and character of antiquity. The remainder 
of the city was divided between the Colonna and Ursini 
families ; the two factions were proud of the number and 
beauty of their female bands ; the charms of Savella Ursini 
are mentioned with praise ; and the Colonna regretted the 
absence of the youngest of their house, who had sprained 
her ancle in the garden of Nero's tower. The lots of the 
champions were drawn by an old ap-i respectable citizen ; 
and they descended into the arena or pit to encounter the 
wild bulls, on foot, as it should seen., with a single spear. 
Amid the crowd our annalist has selected the names, colours, 
and devices of twenty of the mos' conspicuous knights. 
Several of the names are the most iiiustrious of Rome and 
the ecclesiastical state; Malatesta, Polenta, Delia Valle, 
Cafarello, Savelli, Cappoccio, Conti, Annibaldi, Altieri, 
Corsi. The colours were adapted to their taste and situa- 
tion ; the devices are expressive of hope and despair, and 
breathe the spirit of gallantry and arms : — * I am alone, like 
the youngest of the Horatii,' the confidence of an intrepid 
stranger: 'I live disconsolate,' a weeping widower: 'I 
bum under the ashes,' a discreet lover : ' I adore Lavinia 
or Lucretia,' the ambiguous declaration of a modem lover : 
* My faith is as pure' — ^the motto of a white livery : ' Who 
is stronger than myself?' of a lion's hide : ' If I am drowned 
in blood, what a pleasant death'.' the wish of ferocious 
courage. The pride or prudence of the Ursini restrained 



BAITING OF ANIMALS. 165 

them from the field, which was occupied by three of their 
hereditary rivals, whose inscriptions denoted the lofty great- 
ness of the Colonna name : ' Though sad, I am strong :' 
' Strong as I am great :' ' If I fall (addressing himself to 
the spectators), you fall with me;' intimating, says the 
writer, that while the other families were the subjects of 
the Vatican, they alone were the supporters of the Capitol. 
— The combats of the amphitheatre were dangerous and 
bloody. Every champion successively encountered a wild 
bull, and the victory may be ascribed to the quadrupeds, 
since no more than eleven were left on the field, with the 
loss of nine wounded and eighteen killed on the side of 
their adversaries. Some of the noblest families might 
mourn, but the pomp of the funerals in the churches of 
St. John Lateran and St. Maria Maggiore afforded a second 
holyday to the people. Doubtless, it was not in such con- 
flicts that the blood of the Romans should have been shed ; 
y^et, in blaming their rashness, we are compelled to applaud 
their gallantry ; and the noble volunteers who display their 
magnificence and risk their lives under the balconies of the 
fair, excite a more generous sympathy than the thousands 
of captives and malefactors who were reluctantly dragged 
to the scene of slaughter." 

A striking relic of barbarity in the Spanish manners of 
the present day is the excessive attachment of the nation 
to bull-fights, a spectacle which shocks the delicacy of every 
other people in Europe. Many Spaniards consider this 
practice as the sure means of preserving that energy by 
which they are characterized, and of habituating them to 
violent emotions, which are terrible only to timid minds. 
But it seems difficult to comprehend what relation there is 
between bravery and a spectacle where the assistants now 
run no danger ; where the actors prove by the few acci- 
dents which befall them, that there is nothing in it very 
interesting ; and where the unhappy victims meet only 
with certain death, as the reward of their vigour and 
courage. Another proof that these spectacles have little 
or no effect on the disposition of the mind is, that children, 
old men, and people of all ages, stations, and characters, 
assist at them, and yet their being accustomed to such 
bloody entertainments appears neither to correct their weak- 
ness and timidity, rior alter the mildness of their manners. 



166 BULL-FIGHTS AND 

The bull-fights are very expensive, but they bring great 
gain to the undertakers. The worst places cost two or 
four rials, accordingly as they are in the sun or in the 
shade. The price of the highest is a dollar. When the 
price of the,horses and bulls and the wages of the torrea- 
dores have been paid out of this money, the rest is gene- 
rally appropriated to pious foundations ; at Madrid it forms 
one of the principal funds of the hospital. It is only dur- 
ing summer that these combats are exhibited, because the 
season then permits the spectators to sit in the open air, 
and because the bulls are then more vigorous. Those 
which are of the best breed are condemned to this kind of 
sacrifice ; and connoisseurs are so well acquainted with 
their distinguishing marks, that when a bull appears in the 
arena, they can mention the place where he was reared. 
This arena is a kind of circus, surrounded by about a dozen 
of seats, rising one above another, the highest of which 
only is covered. The boxes occupy the lower part of the 
edifice. In some cities, Valladolid far example, which has 
no place particularly set apart for these combats, the prin- 
cipal square is converted into a theatre ; the balconies of 
the houses are widened so as to project over the streets 
which end there ; and it is really a very interesting sight 
to see the diflferent classes of people assembled round this 
square waiting for the signal when the entertainment is to 
commence, and exhibiting every external sign of impatience 
and joy. The spectacle commences by a kind of pro- 
cession round the square, in which appear, both on horse- 
back and on foot, the combatants who are to attack the 
fierce animal ; after which two alguazils, dressed in perukes 
and black robes, advance with great gravity on horseback, 
who go and ask from the president of the entertainment an 
order for it to commence. A signal is immediately given ; 
^nd the animal, which was before shut up in a kind of 
hovel with a door opening into the square, soon makes his 
appearance. The officers of justice, who have nothing to 
do with the bull, presently hasten to retire, and their flight 
is a prelude to the cruel pleasure which the spectators are 
about to enjoy. 

The bull, however, is received with loud shouts, and 
almost stunned with the noisy expression of their joy. He 
ha« to contend first with the vicadores, combatants on horse- 



BAITING OF ANIMALS. 167 

back, who, dressed according to the ancient Spanish manner, 
and, as it were, fixed to their saddles, wait for him, each be- 
ing armed with a long lance. This exercise, which requires 
strength, courage, and dexterity, is not considered as disr 
graceful. Formerly, the greatest lords did not disdain to 
practise it ; even at present, some of the hidalgos solicit for 
the honour of fighting the bull on horseback, and they are 
then previously presented to the people, under the auspices 
of a patron, who is generally one of the principal person- 
ages at court. 

The picadores, whoever they may be, open the scene. 
It often happens that the bull, without being provoked, 
darts upon them, and everybody entertains a favourable 
opinion of his courage ; if, notwithstanding the sharp- 
pointed weapon which defends his attack, he returns 
irmnediately to the charge, their shouts are redoubled as 
their joy is converted into enthusiasm; but if the bull, 
struck with terror, appears pacific and avoids his persecu- 
tors by walking round the square in a timid manner, he is 
hooted at and hissed by the whole spectators, and all those 
near whom he passes load him with blows and reproaches. 
He seems then to be a common enemy who has some great 
crime to expiate ; or a victim, in the sacrifice of which all 
the people are interested. If nothing can awaken his 
courage, he is judged unworthy of being tormented by 
men ; the cry of perros I perros I brings forth new enemies 
against him, and large dogs are let loose upon him, which 
seize him by the neck and ears in a furious manner. The 
animal then finds the use of those weapons with which 
nature has furnished him ; he tosses the dogs into the air, 
who fall down stunned, and sometimes mangled ; they how- 
ever recover, renew the combat, and generally finish by over- 
coming their adversary, who thus perishes ignobly. If, on 
the other hand, he presents himself with a good grace, he 
runs a longer and nobler, but a much more painful career. 
The first act of this tragedy belongs to the combatants on 
horseback : this is the most animated and bloody of all the 
scenes, and often the most disgusting. The irritated ani- 
mal braves the pointed sleel which makes deep wounds in 
his neck, attacks with fury the innocent horse who carries 
his adversary, rips up his sides and overturns him, together 
with his rider. The latter, then dismounted and disarmed. 



168 BULL-FIGHTS AND 

would be exposed to imminent danger, did not combataiita 
on foot, called chdos, come to divert the bull's attention, and 
to provoke him, by shaking before him pieces of cloth of 
various colours. It is, however, at their own risk that they 
thus save the dismounted horseman, for the bull sometimes 
pursues them, and they have need of all their agility. 
They often escape from hmi by letting fall before him the 
piece of stuff which was their only arms, and against 
which the deceived animal expends all his fiiry. Some- 
times he does not accept this substitute, and the combatant 
has no other resource but to throv^r himself speedily over a 
barrier, six feet high, which encloses the interior part of the 
arena. In some places this barrier is double, and the inter 
mediate space forms a kind of circular gallery, behind which 
the pursued torreadore is in safety. But when the barrier 
is single the bull attempts to jump over it, and often suc- 
ceeds. The reader may easily imagine in what consterna- 
tion the nearest of the spectators then are ; their haste to 
get out of the way and to crowd to the upper benches be- 
comes often more fatal to them than even the fury of the 
bull, who, stumbling at every step, on account of the nar- 
rowness of the place and the inequality of the ground, 
thinks rather of his own safety than revenge ; and, besides, 
soon falls under the blows which are given him from all 
quarters. 

Except in such cases, which are very rare, he immediately 
returns. His adversary, recovered, has had time to get up ; 
he quickly remounts his horse, provided the latter is not 
killed or rendered unfit for service, and the attack recom- 
mences ; but he is often obUged to change his horse several 
times. Expressions cannot then be found to celebrate these 
acts of prowess, which for several days become the favourite 
topic of conversation. The horses, very affecting models 
of patience, courage, and docility, may be seen treading 
under their feet their own bloody entrails, which drop from 
their sides half-torn open, and yet continuing to obey for 
some time the hand which conducts them to new tortures. 
Spectators of delicacy are then filled with disgust, which 
converts their pleasure into pain. A new act is however 
preparing which reconciles them to the entertainment. As 
Boon as it is concluded that the bull has been sufficiently 
tonnented by the combatants on horseback, they retire and 



BAITING OF ANIMALS. IQg 

leave him to be irritated by those on foot. The latter, who 
are called handerilleros, go before the animal, and the mo- 
ment he darts upon them they plunge into his neck, two bv 
two, akmd of darts called handerillas, the points of which 
are hooked, and which are ornamented with small streamers 
anade of coloured paper. The fury of the bull is now re- 
doubled ; he roars, tosses his head, and the vain efforts 
Which he makes serve only to increase the pain of his 
wounds ; the last scena calls forth all the agility of his ad- 
versaries. The spectators at first tremble for them, when 
they behold them braving the horns of this formidable ani- 
mal ; but their bands, well exercised, aim their blows so 
skilfully, and they avoid the danger so nimbly, that, after 
having seen them a few times, one neither pities nor admires 
them ; and their address and dexterity seem only to be a 
small episode of the tragedy, which concludes in the follow- 
ing manner: When the vigour of the bull appears to be 
almost exhausted,— when his blood, issuing from twentv 
wounds, streams along his neck and moistens his robust 
sides,— and when the people, tired of one object, demand 
another victim, the president of the entertainment gives the 
signal of death, which is announced by the sound of trum- 
pets, i he matador then advances, and all the rest quit the 
arena ; with one hand he holds a long dagger, and with the 
other a long flag, which he waves backwards and forwards 
before his adversary. They both stop and gaze at one an- 
other ; and while the agility of the matador deceives the 
impetuosity of the bull, the pleasure of the spectators, 
which was for some tune suspended, is again awakened 
into life. Sometunes the bull remains motionless, throws 
reVnae^ ^^ ^^^*' ^""^ ^^P^^'" ^^ ^^ meditating 

The bull in this condition, and the matador who calcu- 
lates his motions and divines his projects, form a group 
which an able pencil might not disdain to delineate. The 
assembly, m silence, behold this dumb scene. The matador 
at length gives the mortal blow; and if the annual imme- 
diately falls, a thousand voices proclaim with loud shouts 
the triumph of the conqueror ; but if the blow is not deci- 
sive, if the bull survives, and seeks still to brave the fatal 
steel, murmurs succeed to applause, and the matador, whose 
glory was about to be raised to the skies, is considered only 



170 BUtL-FIGHTS AND 

as an unskilful butcher. He endeavours to be soon re- 
venged, and to disarm the judges of their severity. His 
zeal sometimes degenerates into blind fury, and his parti- 
sans tremble for the consequences of his imprudence. He 
at length directs his blow^s better. The animal vomits up 
blood ; he staggers and falls, while his conqueror is intox- 
icated with the applauses of the people. Three mules, 
ornamented with bells and streamers come to terminate the 
tragedy. A rope is tied round the bull's horns, which have 
betrayed his valour, and the animal, which but a little be- 
fore was furious and proud, is dragged ignominiously from 
the arena which he has honoured, and leaves only the 
traces of his blood, and the remembrance of his exploits, 
which are soon effaced on the appearance of his successors. 
On each of the days set apart for these entertainments, six 
are thus sacrificed in the morning and twelve in the after- 
noon, at least in Madrid. The last three are given entirely 
to the matador, who, without the assistance of the pica- 
dores, exerts his ingenuity to vary the pleasure of the spec- 
tators. Sorhetimes he causes them to be combated by 
some intrepid stranger, who attacks them mounted on the 
back of another bull, and sometimes he matches them with 
a bear : this last method is generally destined for the plea- 
sure of the populace. The points of the bull's horns are 
concealed by something wrapped round them which breaks 
their force. The animal, which m this state is called em- 
bolado, has power neither to pierce nor to tear his antagonist. 
The amateurs then descend in great numbers to torment 
him, each after his own manner, and often expiate this 
cruel pleasure by severe contusions ; but the bull always 
falls at length under the blows of the matador. The few 
spectators who are not infected with the general madness 
of this sport, regret that these wretched animals do not, at 
least, purchase their lives at the expense of so many tor- 
ments and so many efforts of courage ; they would willingly 
assist them to escape from their persecutors. In the minds 
of such spectators disgust succeeds to compassion. Such 
a series of uniform scenes satiates and exhausts that in- 
terest which the spectacle on its commencement seemed 
to promise. But to connoisseurs, who have thoroughly 
studied all the stratagems of the bull, the resources of his 
address and fury, and the different methods of irritating. 



d 



BAITING OF ANIMALS. 171 

tormenting, and deceiving him, none of these scenes re- 
sembles another, and they pity those frivolous observers 
who cannot remark all their varieties. 

The Spanish government are very sensible of the moral 
and political inconveniences arising from this species of 
phrensy. They have long since perceived, that among a 
people vsrhom they wish to encourage to labour, it is the 
cause of much disorder and dissipation ; and that it hurts 
agriculture by destroying a great number of robust animals 
which might be usefully employed : but they are obliged to 
manage with caution a taste which it might be dangerous 
to attempt to abolish precipitately. They are, however, 
far from encouraging it. The court itself formerly reckoned 
bull-fights among the number of its festivals, which were 
given at certain periods. The Plaza Mayor was the theatre 
of them, and the king and the royal family honoured them 
with their presence. His guards presided there in good 
order. His halberdiers formed the interior circle of the 
scene ; and their long weapons held out in a defensive pos- 
ture were the only barrier which they opposed against the 
dangerous caprices of the bull. These entertainments, 
which by way of excellence were called fiestas reales, are 
become very rare. Charles IH., who endeavoured to poHsh 
the nation, and to direct their attention to usefiil objects, 
was very desirous of destroying a taste in which he saw 
nothing but inconveniences ; but he was too wise to employ 
violent means for that purpose. He however confined the 
number of bull-fights to those of which the profits were 
applied to some charitable institutions. 

Charles IV., inheriting in this respect the humane and 
enlightened views of his predecessor, ventured in 1805 to 
suppress bull-fights altogether by a royal prohibition. But 
before this interdict, the spirit of the age had begun to exert 
its influence even in the Peninsula, the liast stronghold of 
bigotry and ignorance, and their invariable concomitant, 
eruelty. Commercial towns, from their greater communi- 
cation with foreign nations, generally take precedence of the 
interior districts in knowledge, civilization, and improve- 
ment ; in confirmation of which remark we may state that 
the great theatre for the bull-fights in Cadiz was falling 
to ruin when the ordinance in question was promulgated. 
Nevertheless, in the year 1809, when the rest of Spain was 



172 BULL-FiGHTS AND 

overrun by the French, Cadiz for a short time formed the 
only place where this national pastime was allowed. The 
French, always remarkable for their humanity to animals, 
having interdicted this cruel sport in those provinces of 
the Peninsula that were subject to their sway, it could only 
be exhibited at Cadiz, the inhabitants of which place betook 
themselves to it with renewed enthusiasm, and were almost 
reconciled to an invasion which had thus procured for them 
a temporary restoration of their favourite pastime.* 



CHAPTER XV. 

^ull-fights and Baiting of Animals, concluded. 

" And, gentle friends, 
Let's kill him boldly, but not wrathfully ; 
Let's carve him as a dish fit for the gods, 
Not hew him as a carcass fit for Xionn&s.^—Shakspeare. 

" Hadst thou full power to kill, 

Or measure out his torments by thy will. 

Yet what couldstthou, tormentor, hope to gain ? 

Thy loss continues unrepaid by pain." — Dry den. 

From the preceding account our readers will have formed 
some general notion of the mode of conducting the bull- 
feasts in Spain ; but as w^e are enabled to lay before them 
a more particular as well as a much more spirited and in- 
teresting description, furnished by the kindness of a literary 
friend, who witnessed a splendid exhibition of this nature 
given at Madrid to celebrate the return of King Ferdinand 
to his capital, we scruple not to enrich our volume with his 
narrative. So rare have these spectacles now become, that 
it is not easy to meet with a traveller who has witnessed 
them; and seldom, indeed, do we encounter one so well 
able to describe what he has seen. 

" Were we to suffer our opinion of the national charac- 
ter of the Spaniard to be guided by the amusement which 
forms so prominent a feature in his pursuit of pleasure as 

* This chapter has been mostly transcribed from the EncyclopaBdia 
Britannica. 



BAITING OF ANIMALS. 173 

the bull-figlit, we should be guilty of injustice in ascribing 
to his general nature that barbarous brutality which charac- 
terizes an entertainment unparalleled for cruelty, except in 
the gladiatorial exhibitions of a Nero or a Commodus. 

" This amusement bears a greater affinity to the scenes 
of the Coliseum than to any of the entertainments of the 
other principal people who successively invaded and tinc- 
tured Spain with the manners and customs of their ovvoi 
nations. The only argument against its Latin origin is, that 
in the exhibitions of the Roman circles, animals useful for 
domestic purposes seem generally to have been excluded 
from the public combats ; but there are no records whatever 
which lead us to believe that the Goths were addicted to 
this species of entertainment ; nor do the tournaments and 
other popular amusements of the Moors produce any proofs 
that the bull-fight is of Saracenic origin. From whatever 
source it originated, there never was a pursuit more com- 
pletely national, or to which a people were more devoted. 
Neither the Olympic games of Greece, nor the boasted 
gladiatorial exhibitions of Rome, ever attracted a greater 
concourse of spectators, or created a greater degree of en- 
thusiasm in the breasts of the Greeks and Romans, than is 
excited by a bull-fight in that of a Spaniard. The remains 
of Roman amphitheatres in various parts of Spain also cor- 
roborate the probability that this exhibition is derived from 
that people, and that bulls were substituted for the wild 
beasts, as being the most powerful and fiercest animal which 
the country produced. 

"No trivial eagerness of anticipation was therefore 
evinced by the Madridianos, when the placards in the cof- 
fee-houses and the streets announced a magnificent Fiesta 
de Toros,* in celebration of the return of Fernando ; and, 
from an early period of the morning destined for the enjoy- 
ment of the entertainment, every inhabitant of Madrid ap- 
peared to be bending his course towards the Puerta d'Alcala, 
near to which the Plaza de los Toros, or theatre, is situated. 
It is only by witnessing the crowds of eager beings of every 
denomination flocking in all directions to the same point of 
attraction, with anxiety depicted in their countenances, and 
impatience betrayed by their hasty steps, that the intensity 

♦ Literally, bull-feast. 
P2 



174 BULL-FIGHTS AND 

of a Spaniard's attachment to this national amusement can 
6e conceived. 

" Business, pleasure, and religion seem for the moment 
to be entirely abandoned or lost in this one predominant, 
gratification. Neither the decrepitude of age nor the 
helplessness of infancy prevents its pursuit ; no command 
of masters can deter servants ; no occupation appears para- 
mount with the master to detain him from its indulgence ; 
and though it is impossible to aver, w^ith Burgoing, that 
the chastity of many a young female has fallen a sacrifice 
to the temptation of witnessing a bull-fight, when all the 
strength of her own inclinations, and all the ardour of a 
lover were insufficient for his purpose, yet an attendance 
at one of these exhibitions is enough to convince the be- 
holder of its bemg that in which the Spaniard centres his 
chief delight. On this morning every street in Madrid 
which did not form an avenue to the scene of action ap- 
peared to be as deserted as at the hour of the siesta. Most 
of the shops were shut ; vehicles and mules adorned with 
gaudy trappings, were all in motion towards the same place, 
or hurrying back to convey more spectators to the destined 
scene of entertainment. 

" Those who were not rich enough to obtain admittance 
into the building, or who had not sufficient interest to pass 
the barrier by other means, crowded in multitudes round 
the doors, and covered all the space between the theatre 
and the Puerta d'Alcala, to join in the tumultuous cries of 
the spectators within, and to gain the earliest intelligence 
of the event of the combats. 

" At length, not only every seat was occupied, but the 
space of floor between them filled with men, women, and 
children, crouching into all the grotesque attitudes which the 
convenience and view of the more fortunate spectator re- 
quired ; while anxious listeners crowded the avenues almost 
to suffocation, where the roar of the bull might delight their 
ears, but where there was not the slightest hope or possi- 
bility of ocular gratification. 

" The circular of the Plaza de los Toros is somewhat 
more than three hundred feet in diameter, five times as 
large as that of Drury-lane theatre, and surrounded by a 
strong barrier-paling about six feet in height, in which, at 
equal distances, are four pair of double gates, used for the first 



BAITING OF ANIMALS. 175 

satWission of the bulls, and afterward thrown open to tempt 
their re-entrance into the circus, when their impetuous fury 
prompts them to leap into the passage beyond them in pur- 
suit of their tormentors. This passage is about eight feet 
in width, and surrounds the whole of the arena ; affording; 
at once a defence to the spectators in the lower seats, a 
retreat for the bull-fighters, and an additional space to con- 
tain those whose avidity for the amusement induces them 
to hazard its enjoyment in so dangerous a station. Beyond 
this passage, at a sufficient height for the lowest seat to 
command a perfect view of the barrier, the lower benches 
rise one above the other to the outer wall of the building, 
with avenues of ingress and egress resembling the vomito- 
ries of the ancient amphitheatres. Above this species of 
pit are two galleries surrounding the whole edMce ; the 
first seated with rising benches like those below, and the 
second divided by partitions into boxes, decorated with silk 
hangings, and furnished after the taste of their proprietors ; 
for most of the families of fashion have their private boxes 
in this national theatre. In this upper tier are the royal 
boxes and those appropriated to the court and foreign am- 
bassadors, all of which are likewise adorned ■*vith festoons 
and draperies of silk ; those of the royal family being the 
only ones which exhibited the colour of crimson in the deco- 
rations. These boxes are roofed in, with an awning pro- 
jecting over the passage round the barrier ; but the circus is 
open to the sky, admitting the beams of a powerful sun 
upon the spectators ; and the seats varied in price accord- 
ingly as they were more or less exposed to this incon- 
venience. 

"These ample dimensions, calculated to accommodate 
more than fifteen thousand people, are alone sufficient to 
attract and rivet admiration ; but when every part of the 
building is filled with eager spectators, attired in all the 
varied costumes of the different provinces of Spain, the 
ladies in their mantillas, the soldiers in their motley uni- 
forms, the monks in their sacerdotal habits, the citizens in 
their large capotes, and the courtiers in their embroidery, it 
is impossible to imagine a more imposing spectacle, or to 
describe the effect of the coup d^ceil presented by such 9 
regularly-arranged multitude, and such a variety of coIoux-Sj 
4if>on an unaccustomed spectator. 



176 BTJLL-FIGHTS AND 

" It was at this moment, when such crowds of human 
beings were seen waiting with anxious countenance for the 
scene of blood, — ^when every eye beamed with the same ex- 
pression of impatience, and every Up opened but to speak 
upon the subject of the anticipated combat, — that it was im- 
possible for classic recollection not to trace the striking 
resemblance between the descriptions of the ancient gladia- 
torial exercises of the Romans, and the paraphernalia of 
the modern bull-fight of the Spaniards. 

" At a theatre of dramatic entertairmient, neither the 
vilest acting, multiplied mistakes of machinery, nor the 
unnecessary delays of the performers, can induce the na- 
tional gravity of the Spaniard to betray the slightest expres- 
sion of unpatience. But here every dormant passion of 
his nature seemed roused into action ; his estabhshed so- 
lemnity Appeared to be forgotten, and anxiety and impa- 
tience dwelt in the eager glance which every one directed 
towards the gate at which the animals were expected to 
enter. 

" As the entrance of the bulls was protracted until the 
boxes of the grandees above were occupied, murmurs of 
impatience began to be heard from the lower seats, which 
gradually rose into clamour, and joined with the bellowing 
of the animals issuing from the adjoining receptacle in 
which they were secured. 

" At length the sound of trumpets announced that this 
impatience was about to be gratified. The folding gates 
were thrown open, and a procession of the picadors, staca- 
dors, banderillas, and matadors, bearing the various arms 
with which they were respectively to fight or to annoy the 
bulls, passed round the arena, headed by two men mounted 
on mules, and habited in the costume of heralds. The 
proclamation of the combat by the heralds was announced 
by a flourish of trumpets ; and the torreadors made their 
obeisance to the spectators and retired, leaving one of the 
heralds mounted on a stage, as the arbiter and director of 
the tournament. 

" There are four kinds of fighters or tormentors gene- 
rally employed in the bull-fight ; viz. the stacadors and 
banderillas, who fight on foot, the first waving their hand- 
kerchief or mantle in the face of the animal, and the others 
planting arrows in his neck, to increase his ferocity to its 



BAITING OF ANIMALS. ITS' 

Qtmosfc pitch against the entrance of the picadors, so de- 
nominated from their fighting on horseback, and the mata- 
dor, whose business it is to complete the work by destrovin? 
the bull. -^ ^ 

"From the departure of the procession to the entrance 
of the anmial, a silence so profound reigned throughout 
this immense assembly, that it was the eye only which as- 
certamed the occupation of the building ; this silence was 
interrupted first by the blast of the signal trumpet, and 
then by the tremendous shout with which the bull was 
greeted by the spectators as he rushed into the arena. Ap- 
palled by the uproar, the animal generally stops Ms furious 
course m the centre and gazes with astonishment at the 
scene which surrounds him. His surprise, however, soon 
yields to his fury, and perceiving no object on which he can 
immediately vent his rage, he spurns the ground with his 
feet, throws the dust into the air with his horns, and gallops 
furiously round the theatre ; soon becoming accustomed to 
the noise and appearance of the spectators, terror seems 
banished from his fury. His glaring eye, shooting its 
fiery glances from beneath the tufts of curling hair which 
shade his forehead, might prove an apology for fear in the 
breast of the boldest. His rage becomes increased, at the 
sound of the trumpet, by the entrance of the stacadors. 
These men, fancifully dressed and decorated, ran round 
hun waving their handkerchiefs and mantles of difl^erent 
and gaudy colours in his face, attracting his indiscriminate 
rage, until one bolder than the rest concentrated his ftiry 
upon himself alone, and towards him the bull directed the 
whole energy of his impetuous pursuit. The stacador 
flew for a moment before him ; then turning suddenly round, 
waited the attack with intrepidity ; but at the instant when 
the inexperienced spectator supposed the next moment 
must be his last, he attracted the eye of the bull by his 
bright-coloured mantle, held on one side of his body, and 
against which the attack is directed. The stacador left it 
on his horns, and flew himself to the barrier. Tearing the 
mantle m a thousand pieces, the fury of the animal became 
tenfold at the escape of his tormentor, and he turned and 
pursued his companions, who one by one placed their handker- 
chiefs or mantles on his horns and escaped over the barrier. 
Sometimes the animal appeared to feel the futility of directing 



178 BITLL-FIGHTS AND 

his rage^against the gaudy colour which attracted his"at- 
tention, and directed his attack against the stacador him- 
self, who in such cases was fain to owe his security to the 
swiftness of his feet, which scarcely enabled him to pass 
the barrier ere the horns of the bull resounded against it 
with a noise that increased both his own and the specta- 
tors'* delight at his escape. This species of fighting is 
intended only to excite the bull to a greater degree of fury 
against the entrance of the picadors or horsemen, and 
lasts but a short time ; while the shouts and exclamations 
of the spectators vary according to the rage of the bull 
and the boldness with which he is attacked, or the degree 
of danger to which the assailant is exposed. 
f " The trumpet sounded for the third time, and the pica- 
dors galloped into the circus, mounted on short strong 
horses, and curiously caparisoned with a flat broad-brinuned 
hat and feathers, a laced short and loose jacket, lying open 
to discover an embroidered vest, and leathern pantaloons 
and stockings in one, so stuffed as to give a gigantic and 
clumsy appearance to their limbs, but which defended their 
egs and thighs from the homs of the bull. These marched 
round the enraged animal, and approaching him in front 
with their lances, by turns invited and provoked him to the 
combat. For a moment he receded, seemingly appalled by 
the sight of his new enemies ; but this was only to give 
additional force to his meditated plunge, which he made 
with one spring upon the horse and his rider. 

" His attack this time was met by no futile enemy ; his 
ferocity was no longer expended on a resistless or flying 
foe. The picador, fixing himself firmly in his stirrup and 
couching his lance, waited his arrival with intrepidity ; and 
at the very instant when it seemed impossible but that the 
horse at all events must fall the victim of his rage, the 
lance was thrust into his back just above the neck, and the 
pain inflicted by the wound occasioned him to turn his head 
in another direction, at the moment that he expected to 
have accomplished the vengeance which flashed from his eye. 
In this attack every thing depends upon the firmness and 
steadiness with which the lance is aimed, for should it miss, 
it is generally fatal to the horse and highly dangerous to 
the rider. This occurred frequently from the receding mo- 
tion of the horses, or by the bull changing his attack tha 



BAITING OF ANIMALS. iTSl 

moffient he felt the point of the lance ; and several times, 
in spite of the pain, he pushed on and accomplished a por- 
tion of that vengeance, the vphole of which v/ould have 
annihilated its victims for ever. At these times his horns 
were plunged into the breast or bowels of the horse, and it 
became a personal contest between the two animals ; for 
after contact it was impossible for the man to shorten his 
lance sufficiently to give any force to his blow, while the 
vigorous thrust of the bull in one minute overturned both 
horse and rider, and would have pursued his revenge to its 
utmost accomplishment, had not his rage been diverted by 
the other horsemen and by the stacador, who still hovered 
round for that purpose. The picador, if his horse was ren- 
dered unable to renew the combat, mounted another, and 
made a second attack on the bull to regain his character for 
dexterity. The valour of the horses now formed a second 
object of admiration. The courage with which they gene- 
rally met the advancmg bull, the struggle against his herns 
and head when contact was inevitable, the increased ardour 
with which, covered with blood and wounds, they still con- 
tinued the fight, until, utterly exhausted, they fell expiring 
upon the spot, drew forth the plaudit shouts of the specta- 
tors, while they ought rather to extract groans of commise- 
ration from every breast possessing a particle of humanity. 
On this day one horse particularly attracted the attention 
of the spectators by an exhibition of strength, constanc)'^, 
and valour, which continued to the last. After one or two 
successful attacks on the part of his rider, the bull suc- 
ceeded in reaching his flank, and, by one vigorous thrust, 
lifted up his hind quarters and threw him absolutely upon 
his head. The picador was with difficulty extricated from 
under him, and the bull had time to make repeated thrusts 
before he suffered his attention to be attracted by the staca- 
dors. This same white horse I observed in the attack of 
three successive bulls, till the colour of his coat could 
scarcely be distinguished for the blood with which it was 
covered. During the last half-hour his bowels hung through 
his wounds and trailed upon the ground, which creating 
some marks of disgust in a part of the spectator*, the hihu- 
man rider merely pierced it with his lance to relieve it from 
the weight with which it was loaded, and continued the 
fight still mounted upon tho unfortunate but noble animai> 



180 BVLL-PIGHTS AN1> 

till sinking from absolute exhaustion, and not being lifelesf 
enough to be drawn in triumph by mules, amid the sound 
of trumpets, he was admitted into the passage behind the 
barrier ; where, falling on his knees, he lay panting, faint, 
and exhausted, among the feet of the spectators, till death 
or insensibility relieved him from his pain, and he was 
dragged behind the scenes of this inhuman slaughter-house. 
The trumpet sounded a fourth time, and the picadors, re* 
tiring, were immediately succeeded by the banderiilas, so 
called from a species of arrow with which they are armed. 
They carried one of these darts, pointed at the end, and 
ornamented with fireworks, in each hand, and tempted the 
bull to the attack by flourishing them in his face. 

" The animal, a little exhausted by his encounter with 
the horsemen, now contented himself with keeping his as- 
sailants at bay, and eyed them silently and sullenly, until, 
roused by the boldness of their approach, he singled out the 
nearest, and erecting his tail rushed onward to the fight. 
The banderilla remained steady until the horns of the bull 
were within a few inches of his breast, when, inclining his 
body a little to the right, he suddenly and dexterously placed 
a dart on each side of the upper part of his neck, which in- 
ducing a sudden and momentary contraction of the bull, he^ 
made his own escape, and either procured a new supply of 
darts, or, having thus pesformed his duty as banderilla, re-^ 
treated until the next combat. In a few moments the com- 
bustible material contained in the fulminated ornament of 
the arrow ignited, and by its explosion added terror and 
agony to the fury of the animal ; who, as he attacked each 
of the banderiilas in turn, received in his neck the dart& 
with which they were armed. 

" This species of attack, next to the final one of the mata- 
dor, is the most dangerous ; for, as the greatest dexterity 
and vigour are required in placing, so the slightest failure 
on the part of the banderilla must be fatal, the points of 
the horns always passing close to his side. The bull, thus 
provoked to madness by the anguish occasioned by the dart,- 
lendered still more poignant by the gunpowder, now rushedl 
mdiscriminately on all, flew at the spectators, and fre- 
quently m the energy of the pain leaped the barrier, to the 
great terror of those who filled the space beyond it, and who 
■withinGredible alacrity jumped into the arena, while the bull 



BAITING OF ANIMALS. ISl 

tushed round the space they had just occupied, by turns 
roaring at the spectators on the one side, and attempting 
to attack those on the other ; till he again entered the arena 
through the folding gates, which were successively throwrl 
open at his approach^ On one of these occasions, the 
tumult was so great to get over the barrier, that the im- 
petuosity of the bull enabled him to overtake a young man 
before he could accomplish his escape. He threw him some 
distance from the ground, and violently gored him afterward 
with his horns. He was borne senseless and dying from 
that assembly which he had joined to witness and exult in 
the destruction of the very animal from whom he was des- 
tined to receive his own death-blow. The herald now 
sounded his trumpet for the fifth time. The banderillas 
retired, and the arena was left to the bull, who rushed round 
it foaming with rage and pain ; tossing up the dust, lashing 
his tail, and directing his fury indiscriminately against the 
barrier and the spectators. 

" While the bull thus exhausted his impetuous rage, and 
bellowed with agony, the matador entered calmly into the 
circus ; his head uncovered, his right hand bearing a naked 
small sword, and a green mantle hanging loosely on his 
left arm. 

" The clamours of the multitude were now succeeded hf 
the silence of listening and intense observation and curi- 
osity. The eye, before distracted and divided among th6 
variety of assailants, who were occupied merely in torment- 
ing and exciting the animal to the utmost fury of his nature, 
now dwells on two objects alone, — the bull still wildly foam* 
ing, but suddenly become stationary, and eying his antago-^ 
nist with the dark glance of madness ; and the matador^ 
who met the fiery look of the animal with the steady and 
determined gaze of undaunted intrepidity. 

" The spectator, with breathless anxiety, seemed to pre- 
pare for the contemplation of the mortal contest* The 
glances of every eye were centred in the same focus^ arid 
rested on the same objects. Every movement of the coih- 
batants became painfully interesting, as the fate of one or 
both of them hung upon its influence. 

" Several minutes were now spent by the combatants iii 
the contemplation of each other. The matador first aps 
proached and waived his mantle in the eyes of the bull| 

Q 



182 BVLL-FIGHTS AND 

whose immediate attack was suspended by the point of the 
sword which he beheld opposed to his advance. At length, 
forgetting his danger in his fury, he sprang forward, and 
was dexterously avoided by the matador, who, leaping on 
one side, had resumed his defensive position before the at- 
tack could be renewed in another direction. The combat 
continued thus silently for a short period, with no roar on 
the part of the bull, nor one exclamation from the matador 
or the spectators. The silence was at length broken by the 
sound of the trumpet, which knelled the fate of the unfor- 
tunate bull by giving the signal to his antagonist for the 
completion of his work, and for the catastrophe of the com- 
bat. He accordingly collected himself for the decisive blow, 
tempted the bull to make another spring, and plunged his 
sword into the place Avhere the junction is formed between 
the head and the neck at the root of the horns. The bull 
staggered with the thrust, and for a moment receded, but 
seeing t^ matador still standing in his front, his bloodshot 
eye beamed with the last ray of fire, and collecting all his 
remaining strength he made one more attempt at vengeance. 
His antagonist this time generally contents himself with 
avoiding the attack, without repeating his blow. The legs 
of the animal begin to totter, his head falls on his breast, 
he reels with the faintness of approaching death ; he utters 
no sound, but reserves his last struggle for another fruitless 
attempt at revenge. 

" At length, unable to move from the spot where he stood, 
his glazed eyeballs rolled insensibly over the spectators who 
were gazing at his misery. Life's last struggles became 
fainter and fainter ; his knees alone supported his body, till, 
unable longer to contend with his fate, he sank in the dust 
already moistened with his blood, and expired without a groan. 

" The instant that the motionless limbs of the unfortu- 
nate animal proclaimed that life had departed, the ear 
was suddenly assailed by the sound of trumpets, the shouts 
of the multitude, and cries of bravo ! bravo ! which issued 
from all sides ; while handkerchiefs and mantles waved in 
the air spoke to the eye the triumph and pleasure of the 
spectators. In the midst of this tumult, the folding doors 
were thrown open, and three mules abreast, richly capari- 
soned and ornamented with flags, were conducted in full 
gallop. The horns of the deceased bull were attached to 



BAITING OF ANIMALS. 183 

the harness of the mules, and the body was borne round 
the arena, and from the sight, amid the tumultuous plau- 
dits of the spectators. 

" It is at this moment, when the scapulary of the priest 
is seen flourishing in the air by the side of the soldier's hel- 
met ; the white handkerchief of the lady waving close to 
the black mantilla of her own criada ; and the huge cocked- 
hat of the citizen uplifted with the little montero of the 
peasant, that the cmip d'ce.il of this national spectacle be- 
comes strikingly curious to the stranger. 

" In this manner eight bulls were successively sacrificed 
in the morning, and six in the evening of this day ; seven 
or eight horses fell the victims of this national propensity- ; 
and it is impossible to say which excited the greatest degree 
of astonishment — the dexterity of the men, the intrepidity 
and vigour of the animals, or the inhuman delight of the 
spectators. 

" To see men crowd together and interest themselves in 
a scene of human danger and brutal slaughter is sufficiently 
shocking to the general prmciples of humanity ; but to be- 
hold the sex formed by nature to gratify the softest of our 
feelings, and to become the subjects of our more tender sen- 
timents, — to see young and beautiful girls eagerly gazing on 
a scene where the destruction of life is the object, — to mark 
the eye whose beams were intended for expressions of de- 
light and love glut itself on blood, and eagerly watch with- 
out disgust and horror, the different movements of a mortal 
strife, — to hear a female voice mix in the tumultuous shouts 
of extravagant pleasure, excited by the struggling agonies 
of a generous and noble animal, is so contrary to all received 
and imagined notions of female character and delicacy, that 
the soul shrinks from them as women ; and it is difficult to 
think of them as the same beings who are calculated by 
nature for the gratification of our softer passions, and de- 
signed as the chief sources of our domestic felicity. 

" The bulls used, or rather abused, upon these occasions 
are bred on the estates of different noblemen, amateurs in 
the art, or, as they would be called in England, ^ of the fancy. '^ 
The owners are generally distinguished by the colour of the 
riband on their horns. The names of these noblemen re- 
sound through the theatre at the entrance of a bull ; and 
shouts of applause, superior to those which in England 



184 BULL-FIGHTS AND 

greet the appearance of any favourite performer, always 
attend the entrance of an arrival of any favourite breed, or 
of a torero rendered famous by his courage or dexterity. 

" Perhaps the battle of Salamanca itself did not create 
more admiration of English valour than was excited by a 
Scotch soldier at a bull-fight in the great square of that city. 
Impelled, it is supposed, by intoxication, this man suddenly 
leaped into the area of the square, and, attacking the bull 
with his bayonet, was in a moment precipitated into the 
air by his horns. Rendered unable from the violence of the 
concussion to resume his feet, he yet retained his weapon, 
and met the second attack upon his knees ; but, before he 
could be rescued, became the victim of his own rashness 
and the fury of the bull, as well as an example that it is 
dexterity, and not courage, which renders the strength and 
rage of the annual so impotent against the toreros in these 
exhibitions. The unfortunate man was borne from the as- 
sembly amid the shouts of ' Vivan los Inglezes ! bravo los 
Inglezes ! O valorosos Escosezes !' 

' " Among other instances of the eagerness which was 
displayed on the occasion at which I was present, the pea- 
sants, who filled the passage round the barrier, frequently 
got into the arena, and tempted the bull to attack them by 
every means in their power ; waving their pocket handker- 
chiefs, jackets, and caps in his eyes, at the hazard of their 
lives, and suiJering the blows, which the legitimate bull- 
fighters dealt with no small degree of liberality, without 
exhibiting any signs of indignation. 

" The following expression of an old lady of high rank, 
who occupied a seat near me, will prove that neither age 
nor sex is free from the influence of this national mania ; 
and that it pervades the upper as well as the lower classes 
of society. The matador once performed his work so dex- 
terously that the sword completely penetrated the head, 
and became perceptible under the throat. The consequence 
was the almost immediate death of the animal, with the 
loss of only a few drops of blood from his mouth. * Oh, 
the dear creature, I could kiss him for it !' was the excla- 
mation uttered by the old lady, with all the delight of a grati- 
fied amateur ; but whether the imagined salute was intended 
for the dying bull or the victorious matador I was at a loss 
to determine. 



BAITING OF ANIMALS. 185- 

*^ I was present at several bull-fights in the lesser towns 
in Spain, where the plazas graiides, or great squares, sup- 
ply the place of a theatre ; and the balconies and windows 
of the surrounding houses, together with temporary scaf- 
foldings, form the spectatorial. As the ballets, however, of 
our Italian opera become nauseous and ridiculous when 
performed by the tatterdemalions of an itinerant com- 
pany, so does this national exhibition, when divested of the 
paraphernalia which give it some degree of interest in Mad- 
rid, degenerate into the disgusting scene of a common 
bull- bait. 

" There is another species of this entertainment, called 
the fight of the novillas, or young bulls, in which the ani- 
mals are not destroyed, but only trained by their tormentors, 
and remanded from the tribunal till they become sufficiently 
ferocious to grace the exhibitions of the capital. Upon 
these occasions a figure resembling the Engli^ scarecrow 
is fixed in the centre of the arena to attract the bull ; and 
dogs are fi-equently used to add to his irritation. It fre- 
quently, however, happens, that he becomes too exasperated 
to quit the scene of combat at the pleasure of his torment- 
ors ; and in such cases a cow is driven into the circle. The 
bull invariably becomes tranquillized the moment he beholds- 
her; his roar of fiiry subsides into a gentle moan, and he 
follows her quietly from the presence of the spectators ; a 
tacit, though forcible reproof to the surrounding females, 
who, calculated as they are by their ascendency over our 
sex to ameliorate the roughness of its nature, are, on the 
contrary, patronising by their presence and applause such 
scenes of blood as these exhibitions. 

" From the earliest period of their existence, the Span- 
iards are taught to consider the bull-fight as the highest 
species of entertainment. In many towns bulls are lent to 
form the Sunday-evening amusement of the children of the 
place, who, while their sisters are dancing the bolero at 
the doors of their respective houses, tie the unfortunate 
animal ta a stake in the plaza mayor, where he is subjected' 
for some hours to all the ingenuity of his young tormentors. 

" In olden times, national entertainments generally cele- 
brated some circumstance worthy of recollection, or in- 
creased by their tendency some national characteristic worthy 
of preservation. It was thus that the Olympic games of the 



186 ETJLL-FIGHTS AND 

Greeks tended both to excite that literary emulation which 
enrolled their nations in the annals of learned fame, and to 
improve them in those exercises which were useful in the 
warfare of the times. The gladiatorial exhibitions of the 
Romans kept up that apathy to scenes of blood without which 
an empire rising upon the spoils of slaughter and conquest 
could never have been extended and preserved. The tour- 
naments of the days of Charlemagne continued the gallant 
knights in the practice of those warlike feats which rendered 
them so famous to posterity and so useful to their country in 
the hour of battle. But neither the bull-fights of Spain, 
nor the boxing-matches of England, can seek for any apology 
excepting in the brutality which patronises them. The 
former has the advantage over the latter, as it certainly tends 
to display the superiority of human reason over brutal force ; 
for the exhibition of a bull-fight may teach us that presence 
of mind can extricate us from a danger where all our per- 
sonal strength would be of little or no avail. 

" The prevalence of this delight in Spain is too powerful 
for any description to convey an adequate idea. It must be 
witnessed to be believed ; for a Kemble, a Kean, a Siddons, 
an O'Neil, or a Kelly, never drew down more vociferous 
plaudits than the dexterous plunge of a banderilla, the rash 
attack of a torero, or the sudden and mortal wound of a 
matador." 

Painful as it is, the task we have undertaken compels us 
to notice the baiting of bulls and other animals, which has 
in all times been a disgrace to our own country, and the 
practice of which, though it is fortunately declining in ac- 
cordance with the more humane spirit of the age, is not 
likely to be finally extirpated so long as the lower orders 
may plead in excuse for their continuance the cruelties of 
the field sports reserved for the amusement of the upper 
classes. Keen must be that casuist who can discover any 
essential difference between the hunting of a hare or fox 
and the baiting of a bull or badger^ except that the former 
cruelty is practised by those whose rank and education ought 
to have qualified them for a nobler pleasure than that of 
tormenting inoffensive animals ; while the latter is the sport 
of those who cannot be expected to have much taste for 
more refined amusements, and who may plead in its extenua 



BAITING OF ANIMALS. 187 

tion the examples daily exhibited by those who have con- 
verted cruelty into a privilege. The training of bulls, bears, 
horses, and other animals, for the purpose of baitino- 
them with dogs, was certainly practised by the jugglers ; 
and we have elsewhere shown that royal personages, and 
even queens and ladies of the court, did not scruple to coun- 
tenance by their presence these barbarous pastimes. Fitz 
Stephen, who lived in the reign of Henry II., tells us that in 
the forenoon of every holyday during the winter season, the 
young Londoners were amused with boars opposed to each 
other in battle, or with bulls and full grown bears baited by 
dogs. Stow, who records this fact, makes no mention of 
norses ; and it is believed that the baiting of this noble ani- 
mal, though known to have been occasionally performed, 
was never a general practice. Asses, also, were treated 
with the same inhumanity, but probably the poor beasts did 
not afford sufficient sport in the tormenting, and therefore 
were seldom brought forward as the objects of this ruthless 
diversion. 

There were several places in the vicinity of the metropo- 
lis set apart for the baiting of beasts, and especially the dis- 
trict of St. Saviour's parish m Southwark, called Paris 
Garden, which contained two bear-gardens, said to have 
been the first that were made near London. In these, ac- 
cording to Stow, were scaffolds for the spectators to stand 
upon, an indulgence for which they paid in the following 
manner : " Those who go to Paris Garden, the Bell Savage, 
or Theatre, to behold bear-baiting, enterludes, or fence-play, 
must not account of any pleasant spectacle, unless they first 
pay one penny at the gate, another at the entrie of the scaf- 
fold, and a third for quiet standing." One Sunday afler- 
noon, in the year 1582, the scaffold, being overcharged with 
spectators, fell down during the performance, and a great 
number of persons were killed or maimed by the accident, 
which the puritans of the time failed not to attribute to a 
Divine judgment. 

Erasmus, who visited England in the time of Henry VIII., 
says, there were many herds of bears maintained in the 
court for the purpose of baiting. When Queen Mary visited 
her sister the Princess Elizabeth, during her confinement 
at Hatfield House, the next morning, after mass, a grand 
exhibition of bear-baiting was made for their amusement, 



188 BULL-FIGHTS AND 

with which, it is said, " their highnesses were right well 
content." Queen Elizabeth, on the 25th of May, 1559, 
soon after her accession to the throne, gave a splendid din- 
ner to the French ambassadors, who afterward were enter- 
tained with the baiting of bulls and bears, the queen her- 
self standing with the ambassadors to look at the pastime 
till six at night. The day following, the same ambassadors 
went by water to Paris Garden, where they saw another bait- 
ing of bulls and bears ; and again, twenty-seven years 
afterward, Queen Elizabeth received the Danish ambassador 
at Greemvich, who was treated with the sight of a bear and 
bull-baiting, tempered, says HoUinshead, with other merry 
disports ; and for the diversion of the populace there was a 
horse with an ape upon his back, which highly pleased them, 
so that they expressed " their inward conceived joy and de- 
light with shrill shouts and variety of gestures." 

Laneham, speaking of a bear-baiting exhibited before 
Queen Elizabeth in 1575, says that thirteen bears were pro- 
vided for the occasion, and that they were baited with a 
great sort of bandogs. In the foregoing relations we find 
no mention made of a ring put into the nose of the bear when 
he was baited, which certainly was the more modern prac- 
tice ; hence the expression by the Duke of Newcastle in the 
Humorous Lovers, printed in 1617, " T fear the wedlock 
ring more than the bear does the ring in his nose." 

When a bear-baiting was about to take place, it was pub- 
licly made known, and the bearward previously paraded the 
streets with his animal, to excite the curiosity of the popu- 
lace, and induce them to become spectators of the sport. 
On these occasions the bear, who was usually preceded by a 
minstrel or two, carried a monkey or baboon upon his back. 
In the Humorous Lovers, the play just now quoted, " Tom 
of Lincoln" is mentioned as the name of a famous bear ; 
and one of the characters, pretending to personate a bear- 
ward, says, " I'll set up my bills, that the gamesters of Lon- 
don, Hor sly-down, Southwark, and Newmarket may come 
in and bait him here before the ladies ; but first, boy, go fetch 
me a bagpipe ; we will walk the streets in triumph, and give 
the people notice of our sport." 

The two following advertisements, which were published 
in the reign of Queen Anne, may serve as a specimen of 
the elegant manner in which these pastimes were announced 



BAITING OF ANIMALS. 189 

to the public. " At the bear-garden in Hockley-in-the-hole, 
near Clerkenwell Green, this present Monday, there is a 
great match to be fought, by two dogs of Smithfield Bars 
against two dogs of Hampstead, at the Reading Bull, for 
one guinea to be spent : five let-goes out of hand ; which 
goes fairest and furthest in wins all. The famous bull of 
fireworks, which pleased the gentry to admiration. Like- 
wise there are two bear-dogs to jump three jumps apiece 
at the bear, which jumps highest, for ten shillings to be 
spent. Also variety of bull-baiting and bear-baiting; it 
being a day of general sport by all the old gamesters ; and 
a bulldog to be drawn up with fireworks. Beginning at 
three o'clock." 

"At William Well's bear-garden, in Tuttle Fields, West- 
minster, this present Monday, there will be a green bull 
baited, and twenty dogs to fight for a collar ; and the dog 
that runs furthest and fairest wins the collar : with other 
diversions of bull and bear-baiting. Beginning at two of 
the clock." 

The time usually chosen for the exhibition of those na- 
tional babarisms, which were sufficiently disgraceful with- 
out this additional reproach, was the afterpart of the Sab- 
bath-day. " It were well," says Strutt, " if these were the 
only vulnerable parts of the character of our ancestors ; 
but it must be confessed that there are other pastimes which 
equally attracted their attention, and manifested a degree of 
barbarism which will admit of no just defence." ' Sir Richard 
Steele, reprobating the inhumanity of throwing at cocks, 
makes these pertinent observations ; " Some French writers 
have represented this diversion of the common people much 
to our disadvantage, and imputed it to a natural fierceness 
and cruelty of temper, as they do some other entertainments 
peculiar to our nation : I mean those elegant diversions of 
Dull-baiting and prize-fighting, with the like ingenious 
recreations of the bear-garden. I wish I knew how to answer 
this reproach which is cast upon us, and excuse the death 
of so many innocent cocks, bulls, dogs, and bears, as have 
been set together by the ears, or died an untimely death only 
to make us sport." 

There is another barbarous diversion, somewhat different 
from bull-baiting, and much less humane, which seems to 
have been only practised at Stamford, in Lincolnshire, and 



190 BULL-FIGHTS AND 

B,t Tutbury, in Staflfordshire. The traditionary origin of the 
bull-running at Stamford, and the manner in which it was 
performed in the seventeenth century, are given by Butcher, 
in his survey of that town ; and this account I shall lay be- 
fore my readers in the author's own words. " The bull- 
running is a sport of no pleasure, except to such as take a 
pleasure in beastliness and mischief: it is performed just 
the day six weeks before Christmas. The butchers of the 
town, at their own charge, against the time provide the 
wildest bull they can get. This bull over night is had into 
some stable or barn belonging to the alderman. The next 
morning, proclamation is made by the common belhnan of 
the town, round about the same, that each one shut up their 
shop-doors and gates, and that none, upon pain of imprison- 
ment, offer to do any violence to strangers ; for the preventiag 
whereof, the town being a great thoroughfare, and then 
being term-time, a guard is appointed for the passing of 
travellers through the same, without hurt ; that none have 
any iron upon their bull-clubs, or other staff which they pur- 
sue the bull with. Which proclamation made, and the gates 
all shut up, the bull is turned out of the alderman's house ; 
and then hivie-skivy, tag and rag, men, women, and children, 
of all sorts and sizes, with all the dogs in the town promis- 
cuously running after him with their bull-clubs, spattering 
dirt in each other's faces, that one would think them to be 
so many furies started out of hell for the punishment of 
Cerberus, &c. And, which is the greater shame, I have 
seen persons of rank and family, of both sexes,* following 
this bulling business. I can say no more of it, but only to 
set forth the antiquity thereof as tradition goes. William, 
Earl of Warren, the first lord of this town, in the time of 
King John, standing upon his castle-walls in Stamford, 
saw two bulls fighting for a cow in a meadow under tlie 
same. A butcher of the town, owner of one of the bulls, 
set a great mastiff dog upon his own bull, who forced him 
ap into the town : when all the butchers' dogs, great and 
small, followed in pursuit of the bull, which, by this time 
made stark mad with the noise of the people and the fierce- 
ness of the dogs, ran over man, woman, and child that stood 
in his way. This caused all the butchers and others in the 

* This passage he has Latinized in these words : *' Senatores majorum 
gentium dt matronse de eodem gradu." 



BAITING OF ANIMALS. 191 

town to rise up, as it were, in a kind of tumult." The sport 
so highly diverted the earl, who it seems was a spectator, 
that " he gave all those meadows in which the two bulls had 
been fighting perpetually as a common to the butchers of 
the town, after the first grass is eaten, to keep their cattle in 
till the time of slaughter, upon the condition, that on the 
anniversary of that day they should yearly find, at their 
own expense, a mad bull for the continuance of the sport." 
The company of minstrels belonging to the manor of 
Tutbury had several peculiar privileges granted to them by 
a charter from John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster. In this 
charter it is required of the minstrels to perform their 
respective services, upon the day of the assumption of our 
Lady (the 15th of August), at the steward's court, held for 
the honour of Tutbury, according to ancient custom. They 
had also, it seems, a privilege, exclusive of the charter, to 
claim upon that day a bull from the prior of Tutbury. In 
the seventeenth century these services were performed the 
day after the assumption ; and the bull was given by the 
Duke of Devonshire, as the prior's representative. 

The historian of Staffordshire informs us, that a dinner 
was provided for the minstrels upon this occasion, which 
being finished, they went anciently to the abbej^-gate, but of 
late years to « a little barn by the town side, in expectance 
of the bull to be turned forth to them." The animal provided 
forth is purpose had his horns sawed oflf, his ears cropped, his 
tail cut short, his body smeared over with soap, and his nose 
blown full of beaten pepper, in order to make him as mad as 
it was possible for him to be. Whence, " after solemn 
proclamation first being made by the steward, that all man- 
ner of persons should give way to the bull, and not come 
near him by forty feet, nor by any means to hinder the min- 
strels, but to attend to his or their own safeties, every on© 
at his peril; he was then put forth, to be caught by the 
minstrels, and none other, within the county of Stafllbrd, 
between the time of his being turned out to them and the 
setting of the sun, on the same day ; which if they cannot doe, 
but the bull escapes from them untaken, and gets over the 
river into Derbyshire, he continues to be Lord Devonshire's 
property ; on the other hand, if the minstrels can take him, 
and hold him so long as to cut ofif some small matter of his 
hair, and bring the same to the market-cross, in token that 



192 DANCING. 

they have taken him, the bull is brought to the bailifPs house 
in Tutbury, and there collared and roped, and so conveyed 
to the bull-ring in High-street, where he is baited with dogs ; 
the first course allotted for the king, the second for the honour 
j)f the town, and the third for the king of the minstrels ; this 
done, the minstrels claim the beast, and may sell, or kill and 
divide him among them, according to their pleasure." The 
author then adds, " this rustic sport, which they call bull- 
running, should be annually performed by the minstrels 
only ; but now-a-days they are assisted by the promiscuous 
multitude, that flock thither in great numbers, and are 
much pleased with it ; though sometimes through the emu- 
lation in point of manhood that has been long cherished 
between the Staffordshire and the Derbyshire men, perhaps 
as much mischief may have been done as in the bull-fighting 
practised at Valencia, Madrid, and other places in Spain." 
The noise and confusion occasioned by this exhibition are 
aptly described in the marriage of Robin Hood and Chlorinda, 
Queen of Titbury Feast, a popular ballad pubhshed early in 
the last century : 

Before we came to it, we heard a strange shouting, 

And all that were in it look'd madly. 
For some were a bnll-back, some dancing a morris, 

And some singing Arthur O'Bradley.* 



CHAPTER XVI. 



Dancing. 

" Datlcing, being that which gives graceM motions to all our limbs, 
and, above all things, manliness and a becoming confidence to young chil- 
dren, I think, cannot be learned too early. Nothing appears to me tof 
give children so much confidence and behaviour, and so to raise them to 
the conversation of those above their years, as daiicing."— Zioc^e'^ Treat- 
tise on Education. 

" Multarum deliciarum comes saltatio.''— Cicero. 

Under certain vehement emotions, more especially those 
of a pleasant description, all men are, and ever have been, 
natural, spontaneous, involuntary dancers. The child is 

* Extracted from Strutt's Sporty and Pastimes* 



DANCING. 193 

but " the father of the man," when in his first leap for Joy 
he executes le premier pas de la danse, yielding to the im- 
pulses of our common nature without dreaming that the 
saltatory merriment in which he indulges, and which might 
not improperly be termed the laughter of the legs, has been 
solemnly termed " the art of expressing the sentiments of 
the mind or the passions by measures, steps, or bounds, that 
are made in cadence ; by regulated motions of the body, and 
by graceful gestures ; all performed to the sound of musical 
instruments, or of the voice." 

The connexion that exists between certain sounds and 
those motions of the human body called dancing, is assuredly 
a curious speculation that deserves more inquiry than hasf 
hitherto been bestowed upon it. Even between inanimate 
objects and certain notes, there is a sympathy, if that term may 
be allowed, which is equally surprising and inexplicable. It is 
well known that the most massive walls, nay, the solid ground 
itself, will responsively shake and tremble at particular notes 
in music. This strongly indicates the presence of some 
universally-diffused and exceedingly elastic fluid, which is 
thrown into vibrations by the concussions of the atmosphere 
upon it, produced by the motions of the sounding body. If 
these concussions are so strong as to make the large quan- 
tity of elastic fluid vibrate that is dispersed through a stone 
wall, or a considerable portion of earth, it is no wonder they 
should have the same effect upon that invisible and exceed- 
ingly subtile matter which pervades and seems to reside in 
our nerves. 

" Some there are whose nerves are so constructed that 
they cannot be affected by the sounds which affect others ; 
while there are individuals whose nerves are so irritable that 
they cannot, without the greatest difficulty, sit or stand stUI 
when they hear a favourite piece of music played. It has 
been conjectured by profound inquirers into such subjects, 
that all the sensations and passions to which we are subject 
depend immediately upon the vibrations excited in the 
nervour fluid above mentioned. If this be true, we shall 
immediately understand the origin of the various dances 
among different nations. One kind of vibration, for in- 
stance, excites the passions of anger, pride, &c., which are 
paramount among warlike nations. The sounds capable 
of such effects would naturally constitute their martial 
R 



194 DANCING. 

music, and dances conformable to it would be simulta- 
neously instituted. Among barbarous people, in particular, 
this appears to have been an invariable occurrence. Other 
vibrations of the nervous fluid produce the passions of love, 
joy, &c. ; and sounds capable of exciting these particular 
vibrations will immediately be formed into music for dances 
of another kind."* 

As barbarous people have the strongest passions, so they 
are the most easily affected by sounds, and the most ad- 
dicted to dancing, whatever be the nature of the music by 
which it is accompanied. Mr. Gallini informs us, that the 
spirit of dancing prevails almost beyond imagination, 
among both men and women, in the greater part of Africa, 
in some districts of which it arises beyond a mere instinct, 
and may almost be tenned a rage, tlpon the Gold Coast, 
especially, the inhabitants are so passionately fond of it, 
that in the midst of their hardest labour, if they hear a per- 
son sing or any musical instrument played, they cannot 
refrain from dancing. There are even well-attested stories 
of some negroes flinging themselves at the feet of a Euro- 
pean playing on the fiddle, entreating him to desist, unless 
he had a mind to tire them to death, as they could not cease 
dancing so long as he continued playing. 

The same involuntary, we had almost said spasmodic, 
obedience of the limbs to certain sounds, is found to prevail 
among the American Indians, whose saltatory orgasms are 
even more uncouth and irrepressible than those of the Afri- 
cans. They love every thing, says Gallini, that makes a 
noise, however harsh and dissonant. They will also hum 
over something like a rude tune, to which they dance thirty 
or forty in a circle, stretching out their hands and laying 
them on each other's shoulders, stamping and jumping, and 
using the most antic gestures for several hours, till they are 
heartily weary. But we need not refer to nations either 
barbarous or civilized to prove this instinctive connexion 
between certain vibrations and correspondent movements 
of the limbs, or to establish the pleasant intoxication of 
both the mind and body which dancing is calculated to pro- 
duce. Singing and dancing have prevailed from the crea- 
tion to the present time, says a very grave inquirer ; and 

* Encyclop. Britan. art. Dancing. 



DANCING. 195 

♦hey will continue, according to all appearances, till the de- 
struction of our species. 

How profane soever some may affect to consider this 
amusement as at present conducted, it was at first, and 
mdeed during some thousand years, a religious ceremony, 
as we have already intimated in noticing the festivals of the 
Jews. Some commentators are of opinion, that every 
psalm had a distinct dance appropriated to it. " In utroque 
Psalmo, nomine chori, intelligi posse cum certo instrumento 
homines ad sonum ipsius tripudiantes." In the temples of 
Jerusalem, Samaria, and Alexandria a stage for these 
exercises was erected in one part, thence called the choir, 
the name of which has been preserved in our churches, and 
the custom too till within a few centuries. The Cardinal 
Ximenes revived in his time the practice of Mosarabic 
masses in the cathedral at Toledo, when the people danced' 
both in the choir and in the nave with great decorum and 
devotion. Le Pere Menestrier, Jesuit, relates the same 
thing of some churches in France, in 1682 ; and Mr. Gal- 
lini tells us, that at Limoges, not long ago, the people used 
to dance the round in the choir of the church, which is 
under the invocation of their patron saint ; and at the end 
of each psalm, instead of the Gloria Patri, they sang as 
follows : ^^ St. Marcel I pray for us, and we mil dance in 
honour of you.^' From these instances we may see, that 
the modern sect of fanatics called jumpers, who seem to 
entertain the strange notion that he who leaps the highest 
is the nearest to heaven, have abused rather than invented 
the custom of religious dancing. Nor do we see why any 
motion of the body should be deemed incompatible with the 
feelings and offices of devotion. Considered as a mere ex- 
pression of joy, dancing is no more a profanation than sing- 
ing, or than simple speaking ; nor can it be thought in the 
least more absurd that a Christian should dance for joy that 
Jesus Christ is risen from the dead, than that David danced 
before the ark, when it was returned to him after a long 
absence. In these and similar cases the intention and the 
feeling, where they emanate from genuine piety, must be 
held to hallow the act. 

The Egyptians had their solemn dances as well as the 
Jews ; the principal was their astronomical dance ; of 
which the sacrilegious dance round the golden calf was an 



196 DANCING. 

imitation. From the Jews and Egyptians the practice 
passed into Greece, where the astronomic dance was adapted 
to the theatre, with chorus, strophe, antistrophe, epode, &c., 
as we have already remarked in referring to the origin of 
their drama. In the hands, or, as we should rather say, in 
the feet of this ingenious and highly civilized people, 
dancing, which among the barbarians was a mere ungovern- 
able transport, became a regular art, by means of which, 
through the secret sympathies that cement sound and 
motion with feeling, any passion whatever could be excited 
in the minds of the beholders. In this way effects were 
produced upon the sensitive Greeks that to our colder tem- 
peraments appear almost incredible. At Athens, it is said, 
that the dance of the Eumenides, or Furies, upon the theatre, 
had so expressive a character as to strike the spectators 
with irresistible terror ; men grown old in the profession of 
arms trembled ; the multitude rushed out ; women were 
thrown into fits ; and many imagined they saw in earnest 
those terrible deities commissioned with the vengeance of 
heaven, to pursue and punish crimes upon earth. Plato 
and Lucian both speak of dancing as a divine invention, 
although in the instance just recorded it seems to have been 
perverted to purposes of a rather demoniacal nature. 

Of the importance attached to this subject by the ancients 
we may judge from the fact that it engaged the serious 
attention of Plato, who reduces the dances of the Greeks to 
three classes. 1. The military dances, which tended to 
make the body robust, active, and well disposed for all the 
exercises of war. 2. The domestic dances, which had for 
their object an agreeable and innocent recreation and 
amusement. 3. The mediatorial dances, which were in 
use in expiations and sacrifices. The Spartans had invented 
the first for an early excitation of the courage of their 
children, and to lead them on insensibly to the exercise of 
the armed dance. This children's dance, which used to be 
executed in the public place, was composed of two choirs, 
the one of grown men, the other of children ; whence, 
heing chiefly designed for the latter, it took its name. The 
choir of the children regulated their motions by those of the 
men, and all danced at the same time, singing the poems 
of Thales, Alcman, and Dionysadotus. The Pyrrhic dance 
was performed by young men, armed cap-a-pie, who exe- 



DANCING. 197 

cuted to the sound of the flute all the proper movements 
either for attack or defence. It was composed of four parts ; 
the first, the podism, or footing, which consisted in a quick 
shifting motion of the feet, such as was necessary for over- 
taking a flying enemy, or for getting away from him when 
an overmatch. The second part was the xiphism : this was 
a kind of mock fight, in which the dancers imitated all the 
motions of combatants ; aiming a stroke, darting a javelin, 
or dexterously dodging, parrying, or avoiding a blow or 
thrust. The third part, called the homos, consisted in very 
high leaps, or vaultings, which the dancers frequently 
repeated, for the better using themselves occasionally to leap 
a ditch, or spring over a wall. The tetracomos, the fourth 
and last part, was a square figure, executed by slow and 
majestic movements ; but it is uncertain whether this was 
every where performed in the same manner. 

Of all the Greeks the Spartans were those who most cul- 
tivated the Pyrrhic dance. This warlike people exercised 
their children, at it from the age of five years to the accom- 
paniment of hymns and songs. The following was sung 
at the dance called Trichoria, from its being composed of 
three choirs — one of children, another of young men, and 
the third of old. The latter opened the dance, saying, " In 
time past we were valiant." The young men answered, 
" We are so at present." To which the chorus of children 
replied, " We shall be still more so when our time comes." 
The Spartans never danced but with real arms. In pro- 
cess of time, however, other nations came to use weapons 
of wood on such occasions. Nay, it was only so late as 
the time of Athenseus, who lived in the second century, 
that the dancers of the Pyrrhic, instead of arms, carried 
only flasks, ivy-bound wands, or reeds. But even in 
Aristotle's time they had begun to use thyrsuses instead of 
pikes, and lighted torches instead of javelins and swords, 
with which they executed a dance denominated the con- 
flagration of the world. A remnant of this military exercise, 
called the sword-dance, was currently performed by some 
of the minstrel troops, and has been occasionally presented 
in England by vagrant morris-dancers to a still later period. 

Tacitus thus describes a species of sword-dance among 
the ancient Germans : " One public diversion was con- 
stantly exhibited at all their meetings : — ^young men, who 
R2 



198 DANCING. 

by frequent exercise have attained to great perfection in that 
pastime, strip themselves, and dance among the points of 
swords and spears w^ith most wonderful agility, and even 
with the most elegant and graceful motions. They do not 
perform this dance for hire, but for the entertainment of the 
spectators, esteeming their applause a sufficient reward." 
Mr. Brand tells us, that he has seen this dance frequently 
performed in the north of England, about Christm^-s time, 
with little or no variation from the ancient method. 

Of the Grecian dances for amusement and recreation 
some were but simple gambols or sportive exercises, which 
had no character of imitation, and of which the greater 
part exist to this day. The others were more complex, 
more agreeable, figured, and were always accompanied with 
singing. Of this character was that called the wine-press, 
of which there is a description in Longinus, and the Ionian 
dances. These last in their original institution were decent 
and modest ; but in time their movements came to be so 
depraved as to be employed in expressing nothing but the 
most indecorous voluptuousness. 

Among the ancients there were no festivals nor religious 
ceremonies which were not accompanied with songs and 
dances. It was not held possible to celebrate any mystery, 
or to be initiated in any sacred institution, without the 
intervention of these two arts ; which were considered so 
essential, that to express the crime of such as were guilty 
of revealing the mysteries they employed the word khcistcB 
— " to be out of the dance." The most ancient of these 
religious dances is the Bacchic, which was not only conse- 
crated to Bacchus, but to all those deities whose festival 
was celebrated with any kind of enthusiasm. On his 
return from Crete, Theseus instituted a dance, at which he 
himself assisted at the head of a numerous and splendid 
hand of youths, round the altar of Apollo. It was composed 
of three parts— the strophe, the antistrophe, and the sta- 
tionary. In the strophe the movements were from right to 
left ; in the antistrophe, from the left to the right ; in the 
stationary, which did not mean an absolute pause or rest, 
but only a more grave and slow movement, they danced 
before the akar. Plutarch is persuaded that in this dance 
there is a profound mystery. Theseus gave it the name of 
geranos, or " the crane," because the figures which charac- 



DANCING. 199 

terized it bore a resemblance to those described by cranes in 
their flight. 

In the elaborate eulogium which Luciau has left us, it 
appears that the pantomimic powers of the ancients were 
.equal to the representation of any of their mythological 
fables ; and that they succeeded in expressing by gesture 
alone all those inflections of the passions, of which we find 
the enunciation so difficult with the help of those organs that 
seem to have been expressly provided us for that purpose by 
nature. He gives a decided preference to this dumb show 
over both tragedy and comedy, with all their vocal powers ; 
and even insists that the actors in the scenes he describes 
must have been endowed with every elegant accomplish- 
ment and amiable virtue. 

From Greece these dances with different modifications 
found their way across the Adriatic. Rome adopted her 
aianners, her arts, and her vices ; — thence they were dis- 
persed over the rest of Europe. In the reign of Augustus 
two very extraordinary men made their appearance, who 
invented a new species of entertainment, which they car- 
ried to an astonishing degree of perfection. Nothing was 
then talked of but the wonderful talents and amazing per- 
formances of Pylades and Bathyllus, who were the first to 
mtroduce what the French call the ballet Abaction ; wherein 
the performer is both actor and dancer. 

Pylades undertook the hard task of representing, with the 
assistance of the dance alone, strong and pathetic situations, 
and may be called the father of that style of dancing which 
is known to us by the name of grave or serious pantomime. 
Bathyllus represented such subjects as required a certain 
liveliness and agility. Nature had been excessively partial 
to these two men, who were endowed with genius and all 
the exterior charms that could captivate the eye ; and who 
by their study and application displayed to the greatest ad- 
vantage all the resources that the art of dancing could 
supply. These, like two phenomena, disappeared, and 
never did the world see their like again. Government 
withdrew their protection, the art gradually sank into ob- 
•scurity, and became even entirely forgotten on the accession 
of Trajan to the empire. 

Thus, buried with the other arts in entire oblivion, danc- 
jig remained uncultivated till about the fifteenth century, 



2t)0 DANClIf G. 

when ballets were revived in Italy at a magnificent enter- 
tainment given by a nobleman of Tortona, on account of 
the marriage between Galeas, Duke of Milan, and Isabella 
of Arragon. Every resource that poetry, dancing, music, 
and machinery could supply was exhausted on the occa- 
sion. The description given of so superb an entertainment 
excited the admiration of aU Europe, and the emulation of 
several men of genius, who, improving upon the hint given 
them, introduced among their countrymen a kind of spec- 
tacle equally pleasing and novel. 

It would seem, however, that at first the women had no 
share in the public or theatrical dance ; at least we do not 
find them mentioned in the various entertainments given at 
the opera at Paris, till the 21st of January, 1681, when the 
then dauphiness, the Princess de Conti, and some other 
ladies of the first distinction in the court of Louis XIV., 
performed a ballet with the opera, called Le Tnomphe de 
V Amour. This union of the two sexes seemed to enliven 
and render the spectacle more pleasing and brilliant than it 
had ever been before. It was received with so much ap- 
plause, that on the 16th of May following, when the same 
opera was acted in Paris, at the theatre of the Palais 
Royal, it was thought indispensable for the success of that 
kind of entertainment to introduce female dancers, who have 
ever since continued to be the principal support of the opera. 

Dancing subsequently continued to encroach upon the 
sister arts of poetry and music, until it came to be con- 
sidered by many, particularly at Paris, as the paramount 
attraction. To the monotony and tiresome length of the 
recitatives may be chiefly attributed the disfavour into 
which music had fallen. A wit, being one day asked what 
could be done to restore the waning taste for the opera, 
replied, that they should lengthen the dances and shorten 
the petticoats. In the first instance music supplanted 
poetry, and dancing now superseded both ; usurping a 
pre-eminence which several distinguished ballet-masters 
contributed to maintain. The art, however, of composing 
those grand dances which are now so much admired, was 
for many years in a state of infancy, till Monsieur Noverre 
gave it a degree of perfection which it seems impossible to 
exceed. In an elaborate book upon the subject, this cele- 
brated ballet-master and performer has with great eloquence 



DANCING. 201 

and ingenuity delineated the nature, objects, and powers 
of dancing, and shown how much it may be ennobled by 
an acquaintance with the kindred arts. 
"" Uallets, he observes, have hitherto been only faint sketches 
of what they may one day become ; for, as they constitute 
an art entirely subservient to taste and genius, they may 
receive daily variation and improvements. History, paint- 
ing, mythology, poetry, all join to raise it from that ob- 
scurity in which it is buried, and it is only surprising that 
composers have hitherto disdained so many valuable acces- 
sories and resources. " If ballets, therefore," says he, " are 
for the most part uninteresting and uniformly dull ; if they 
fail in the characteristic expression which constitutes their 
essence ; the defect does not originate from the art itself, 
but should be ascribed to the artist. Are then the latter 
yet to learn that dancing is an imitative art ? I am indeed 
inclined to think that they know it not, since we daily see 
them sacrifice the beauties of the dance, and give up the 
graceful naivete of sentiment to become the servile copyists 
of a certain number of figures known and hackneyed for 
above a century. 

"Ballet-masters should consult the productions of the 
most eminent painters. This would bring them nearer to 
nature, and induce them to avoid, as often as possible, that 
formality of figures which by repeating the object presents 
two diflferent pictures on one and the same canvass. Such 
figures must give way to nature in what we call ballets d^ action. 
An instance may serve to support and elucidate my argument. 
"At the sudden and unexpected appearance of some 
young fauns, a troop of nymphs take themselves to flight 
with equal terror and precipitation. The former are in 
pursuit of the latter, with that eagerness which the very 
hope of pleasure can inspire. Now they stop to observe 
what impression they have made on the nymphs ; these, 
at the same time, and for a similar reason, check their 
career : with fear they survey their pursuers, and endeavour 
to guess at their intentions and provide for a retreat to 
some spot where they may rest secure from the dangers 
that threaten them. Both troops now join, the nymphs 
resist, defend themselves, and at last effect their escape 
with no less swiftness than dexterity. 

• This I call a busy active scene, in which the dance, as 



202 DANCING. 

it were, should speak with energy. Here studied and S3rm- 
metrical figures cannot be introduced without a manifest 
violation of the truth, without weakening the action and 
lessening the effect. The scene should be conspicuous for 
its beautiful disorder, and the art of the composer must 
here be the handmaid of nature. 

" Perhaps some ill-disposed critics, so far strangers to the 
art as not to judge of it from its various effects, will main- 
tain that the above scene should pursue only two different 
objects ; the one portrayed in the love-sick fauns, the other 
expressed by the affright of the nymphs. But how many 
shades may serve to embellish these pictures — how varied 
may be the strokes of the pencil ? how opposite the lights — 
and what a number of tints ought to be employed in order 
to draw from this twofold situation a multiplicity of images, 
each more lively and spirited than the other ! The truth 
of imitation and the skill of the painter should conspicu- 
ously appear in giving a different aspect to the features ; 
some of them expressing a kind of ferocity, others betray- 
ing less eagerness ; these casting a more tender look ; and 
to the rest the languishing air of voluptuousness. The 
sketch of this first picture naturally leads to the composi- 
tion of the second : here some nymphs appear divided be- 
tween fear and desire ; there some others express by the 
contrast of their attitudes the various emotions of the soul. 
This ensemble gives life to the whole picture, and is the 
more pleasing that it is perfectly consistent with nature. 
From this exposition you will not hesitate to agree with 
me that symmetry, the offspring of art itself, should never 
find place in the ballet d'' action. 

" I shall beg leave to inquire of all those who reason from 
habitual prejudice, whether they will look for their favourite 
symmetry in a herd of sheep flying from the wolf, or among 
wretched peasants leaving their huts and fields in order to 
shelter themselves from the fury of a party of enemies ? 
Certainly not. But the art lies in concealing art itself; 
my aim is by no means to introduce disorder and confu- 
sion ; on the contrary, I will have regularity even in irregu- 
larity What I most insist on is the introducing of well- 
concerted groups, situations forcibly expressed, but never 
beyond nature ; and above all, a certain ease in the com- 
position which betrays not the labour of the composer 



DANCING. 203 

" A ballet, perfect in all its parts," our author proceeds 
to observe, " is a picture drawn from life, of the manners, 
dresses, ceremonies, and customs of all nations. It must, 
therefore, be a complete pantomime, and through the eyes 
speak, as it were, to the very soul of the spectator. If it 
want expression, if it be deficient in point of situation and 
scenery, it degenerates into a spectacle equally flat and 
monotonous." 

According to Plutarch a ballet is, if the expression may 
be allowed, a mute conversation, or a speaking and ani- 
mated picture, whose language consists of motions, figures, 
and gestures, unlimited in their number, because there are 
no bounds to the varieties of expression. A well-composed 
ballet, therefore, may do without the assistance ofspeakers» 
M. Noverre indeed remarks, in the very spirit of his pro- 
fession, that these only serve to weaken the action, and 
partly destroy its effects ; and he declares that he has no 
opinion of a pantomime, which, in order to be understood, 
must borrow the help of verbal explanation. " Any ballet 
whatever," he says, "destitute of intrigue, action, and 
interest, displaying nothing more than the mechanical 
beauties of the art, and, though decorated with a pompous 
title, unintelligible throughout, is not unlike those portraits 
and pictures to which the painters of old subscribed the names 
of the personages and actions they meant to represent ; be- 
cause they were imperfect in point of imitation, the situa- 
tions weakly expressed, the outlines incorrect, and the 
colours unseemly. 

"When dancers shall feel, and, Proteus-like, transfer 
themselves into various shapes to express to the life the 
conflict of passions, — when their looks shall speak their 
inward sensations, — when, extending their arms beyond the 
narrow circle prescribed by pedantry, and with equal grace 
and judgment giving them a fuller scope, they shall by 
proper situations describe the gradual and successive pro- 
gress of the passions ; when, in fine, they call good sense 
and genius to the assistance of their art, then they may ex- 
pect to distinguish themselves : explanatory speeches will 
become useless ; a mute but powerful eloquence will be 
substituted to much better effiect ; each motion will be a 
sentence ; every attitude will betray a situation ; each ges- 
ture convey a thought, each glance a new sentiment i and 



204 DANCING, 

every part will please, because the whole will be a true and 
faithful imitation of nature." 

Whether human beings can be found to realize this leaiM 
ideal of an accomplished dancer we cannot determine, not 
wishing to compromise ourselves upon a matter of such 
vital importance ; but it must be confessed that the enthu- 
siastic ballet-master disserts upon the subject con gusto, con 
amore. Had he written with his feet he could not have 
been more earnest, eloquent, and impressive, though we 
cannot help still suspecting that the eight parts of speech 
are capable of expressing our feelings more effectually and 
intelligibly than the five positions, however they may be 
imbued with a mute conversational power under the plastic 
modification of M. Noverre. 



CHAPTER XVn. 

Dancing, concluded. 

•' If an exercise so sociable and enlivening were to occiipy some pan 
Of that time which is lavished on cards, w^ould the youth of either sex be 
losers by it ? I think not. It seems to me there can be no impropriety 
in it, any more than in modulating the voice into the most agreeable 
tones in singing, to which none, I think, will object. What is dancing, 
in the most rigid sense, but the harmony of motion rendered more pal- 
pable ? Awkwardness, rusticity, ungraceful gestures, can never surely 
be meritorious."— Fordj/ce's Sermons to Young Persons. 

From the preceding chapter it will appear that ballets are 
in some degree subject to the rules of poetical composition, 
though they diflfer from the regular drama by not requiring 
the three unities of time, place, and action. The ballet, 
therefore, may be termed the brother of the drama, unre- 
strained by those stricter regulations which only serve to 
cramp the imagination and confine genius. M. Noverre 
considers tragedy as the subject most suitable for the art of 
dancing, since it abounds]in those noble incidents and situa- 
tions which produce the best stage effects. Besides, the 
passions are more forcibly expressed in great characters, the 
imitation is of course less difficult, and the action in the 



DANCING. 205 

pantomime more significant, natural, and intelligible. The 
business of a skilful master (he observes) is to foresee, as it 
were, at one glance, the general effect that may result from 
the whole ; and to forget for a while the principal characters 
of the drama. If his entire attention should be taken up 
with the parts of the first dancers of both sexes, the action 
is suspended, the scenes are slow in their progress, and the 
whole perfcTrmance must fall short of its desired effect. 
Every thing that may thus tend to weaken the ballet ought 
to be carefully avoided, and only that number of actors 
should be introduced which is requisite for the proper exe- 
cution of the performance, the whole of which must have its 
beginning, its middle, and its end, or, in other words, expo- 
sition, plot, and denouement. 

i . In fine, a ballet-pantomime should be dramatic in all its 
parts ; and the figure dancers, who succeed to the principal 
performers, ought to continue the scene, not by a number of 
symmetrical figures and studied steps, but by that kind of 
animated expression which keeps up the attention of the 
spectators to the main subject for which the preceding 
actors have prepared them. Yet, either through ignorance, 
or in consequence of a vitiated habit, there are but few well- 
supported ballets. Dance is introduced for the mere pur- 
pose of dancing ; the end is supposed to be answered by 
the mechanical motion of the feet, or by high jumping ; and 
inactive performers are introduced, who mix with and jostler 
each other, presenting a confused heap of pictures, sketched 
without taste, awkwardly grouped, and totally devoid of that 
harmony and expression, the offspring of the soul, which 
can alone embellish art by giving it life. 

In considering the knowledge necessary for attaining 
perfection in this art, M. Noverre observes, " that mythology^ 
ancient poetry, and chronology should fonn the primary 
studies of a ballet-master, who ought also to possess a 
genius for poetry and painting, since the art borrows all itsf 
charms from a perfect imitation of nature. A slight know- 
ledge of geometry also cannot but prove highly advantageous^ 
as it will help the master to introduce his figures in due pro- 
portion, to calculate exactly, and to execute with precision. 
By means of that unerring guide he will retrench every 
superfluous accessory, and thus enliven the perfonnaBcer 
S 



206 DANcmo. 

Taste will introduce elegance, genius create variety, arid 
judgment direct the whole. 

" Ballets are often founded on preternatural subjects ; 
several of these, particularly such as are taken from Ovid's 
Metamorphoses, will require the assistance of machinery, 
to secure the success of which, the ballet-master should 
himself be an expert machinist. None are to be found out 
of the capital but journeymen and scene-shifters, whose 
capacity scarcely extends beyond the first rudiments of 
carpentry. A ballet-master will often find himself greatly 
embarrassed, if, from his ignorance of the mechanical arts, 
he cannot convey his ideas with propriety, by constructing 
small models, which are better understood by the generality 
of workmen than the clearest verbal explanation. 

" The theatres of Paris and London are the best supplied 
with these resources. The English are very ingenious, 
their stage machinery is more simplified than the French, 
and of course produces a quicker effect. Among them all 
works of this kind are most exquisitely finished, the neat' 
ness, care, and exactitude which are remarkable through- 
out every part greatly contributing to the precision of the 
whole. Those chef-d^oziovres of mechanism particularly 
display themselves in their pantomimes, which, however, 
are low and trivial, devoid of taste and interest, and built 
upon the meanest incidents. This kind of entertainment, 
which is got up at a prodigious expense, is only calculated 
for the vulgar, and would never succeed on the French 
theatre, where no other pleasantry is permitted but such as 
is compatible with decency and morality, and is recom- 
mended by its delicacy and its wit. 

" A knowledge of anatomy will serve to render more 
clear and intelligible the precepts which the ballet-master 
has to lay down for his pupils. It will enable him to dis- 
tinguish between the natural and the habitual defects in 
their conformation, which so ofl;en impede the progress of 
young beginners. Drawing is so useful in the composition, 
of ballets, that the master cannot dispense with that accom- 
plishment ; it will contribute to the beauty of the forms, 
will give to the figures an air of novelty and elegance, will; 
animate the groups, and show the attitudes in a just pre- 
cision. That he must be a proficient in music it is not 
necessary to repeat. Unless he is endued with that sensi- 



DANCING. 207 

bility of organ, which is more commonly the gift of nature 
than the result of art, study, or application, he will not 
enter into the spirit or character of his airs, nor be able to 
regulate the motions of his dancers with that delicate ac- 
cordance which is absolutely indispensable. If this know- 
ledge is combined with taste, he will either set the music 
himself, or at least furnish the composer with the principal 
outlines to characterize the action of the dancer. Music 
well composed should paint and speak ; and the dance set 
to those sounds will be, as it were, the echo to repeat the 
words. If, on the contrary, it be mute, if it speak not to the 
ear of the dancer, then all sentiment and expression are 
banished from the performance. 

" To insist that the ballet-master should be a proficient 
in all these studies would be requiring too much. All that 
can be deemed strictly requisite is a slight tincture of those 
sciences which by their connexion with his art may contri- 
bute to its perfection ; for there can be no doubt that the 
ballet-master will ennoble his composition with the most fire, 
spirit, liveliness, and interest who possesses the greatest 
share of genius and imagination, and whose knowledge is 
the most various and extensive." 

The architect who, in enumerating the requisites for his 
profession, began by saying that a builder ought to be a good 
lawyer, in order that he might be sure of the validity of his 
title to the ground, before he erected his house, had but a 
narrow estimate of his art in comparison with M. Noverre, 
who seems to have imagined that no man could deserve the 
name of a ballet-master, unless he were a species of admi 
rable Crichton. When we refer to his public triumphant 
coronation on the stage, we can scarcely wonder that he 
should form a lofty, not to say an overweening estimate of 
the importance of that pursuit, his success in which had 
procured him a higher popularity and more flattering 
honours than the phlegmatic EngUsh are in the habit of 
bestowing upon their most distinguished poets, heroes, and 
statesmen. Pre-eminence in dancing and in the compo- 
eition of ballets is willingly conceded to the French by all 
the world , and M. Noverre was perhaps excusably jealous 
of the national honour, as well as naturally influenced by 
personal vanity, when he exalted, somewhat extravagantly 



208 DANCING, 

it must be confessed, the profession of which he was so dis- 
tinguished and unrivalled an ornament. 

Others, however, have maintained, not less strenuously 
than himself, the capability of dancing not only to express 
all the human passions, but to characterize the movements 
of allegorical and supernatural personifications. A French 
author tells us, with a solemnity becoming the subject, that 
the pas called the gargaiiillade is devoted to the entree of 
winds, demons.^ and elementary spirits ! It is formed by 
wheeling on either side a half-pirouette, on both feet. One 
leg then rising, makes almost simultaneously a turn out- 
ward, the other inward ; the dancer lights on the same leg 
with which he commenced, and forms the other half- 
pirouette with the one that remains in the air. This step, 
being composed of two turns, is seldom equally well per- 
formed on both sides. The celebrated Dupre, at Paris, 
used to dance the gargouillade excellently among the 
demons, but he gave it less elevation than is practised 
at present. 

It was performed in the most exquisite manner by Madame 
Lionnois, who, in the character of Hatred, figured with 
Monsieur Duprd's Despair, in the fourth act of Zoroaster. 
She is the first female dancer who has accomplished this 
difficult and hazardous step, which is considered so pecu- 
liarly and admirably calculated to inspire terror on the 
entrance of spirits. 

Another ingenious Frenchman, in his enthusiasm for the 
national art, goes so far as to assert that it is a mere preju- 
dice to suppose there is any thing ridiculous in expressing 
fear, anger, sorrow, and indeed all the passions, and even 
the agonies of death, by singing and dancing, which he 
maintains to be the most natural and forcible modes of 
representing all the violent feelings. " Let," says he, " a 
company of Italian singers be cast away on a desolate 
island, and let them people it themselves with a new race 
of beings, who should never hear any other language nor 
see any other gestures than those in use at the opera ; you 
would soon perceive what an improvement they would ex- 
hibit in education and behaviour ; you would find that those 
brought up under such advantages would look down with 
the same contempt upon the best-bred youths of the present 
ByBtem, as these do on our country clodhoppers ; and that 



DANCING. 209 

their ears and eyes, formed upon such models, and accus- 
tomed to so much harmony and grace, would be imme- 
diately shocked by the dissonance of our tones of speech, 
and the awkwardness of all our steps and actions." 

That other dancing-masters besides M. Noverre have a 
lofty sense of their own high profession, and of the respect 
and reverence with which they should be consequently 
treated, will be seen by the following extract from a work 
entitled " Chorography, or the Art of Dance-writing" — 
Remark as to the lesson : 

" It is the duty of the scholar to go to meet the master 
when he arrives, and to receive him with the utmost polite- 
ness : in doing this, he must observe to make two bows — 
one very profound, the other not quite so low : — he will 
then cause him to be shown into the room, and offer him a 
fauteuil or a chair : — as soon as he is seated, the young 
lady or gentleman, whichever the scholar may happen to be, 
will present him both hands, place himself in the first 
position, and make four more reverences, the first very pro- 
found, the second less so, and the same of the other two ; 
with the knees well divided, and the heels firm to the 
ground. 

"After this salutation, the young lady or gentleman, 
whichever it may happen to be, will march forward and 
backward — to the right — to the left — sideways, or any way 
the master may direct. 

"The lesson finished, the scholar will reconduct the 
master to the door of the apartment, and then make him 
two more bows, one very low, the second less so, and will 
thank him in the politest manner for the kind attention he 
has bestowed and the trouble he has so obligingly taken, 
«&c. &c." 

Would not any one imagine that these kit-carriers, these 
heroes of the heel, these tyrants of the toe, whom 

The captain salutes Avith a congfe profound, 

While her ladyship court'sies half-way to the ground, 

were generous enough to bestow their lessons at their 
intrinsic value — that is to say, gratuitously "? Not they ! 
Provided they are foreigners, or have a French termination 
to their name, they may safely demand a more exorbitant 
price than would be paid for lessons in the most important 
S 2 



2iO DANCING. 

studies from the first philosopher of the age ; and Enghsh 
parents will cheerfully lavish upon these brainless caperers 
of the continent what they would grudge to a college pro- 
fessor of their-own nation. Strange that we should witness 
M. Gardel's ballet of the Dansomanie, and not perceive that 
the " capering monsieur from active France" is turning us 
into ridicule, and laughing at us to our face, for suffering 
him and others of his countrymen to pick our pockets. The 
satyrs, we know, were dancers, whence M. Gardel, perhaps, 
inferred that dancers might write satires even upon their 
patrons and supporters. 

M. Noverre, from whom we have so largely quoted, is 
perpetually calling upon artists, masters, and pupils to imi- 
ate nature, and yet in the following passage he seems to 
•admit that the art he is celebrating owes its chief excel- 
ence to an unnatural distortion. — " To perfection in dancing 
lothing is more necessary than the outward turn of the 
high; yet nothing is more natural to mankind than the 
contrary position ; it is bom with us. It will be super- 
fluous in establishing this truth to cite for example the 
Asiatics, the Africans, or any people who dance, or rather 
eap and move v^ithout art or principle. If we attend only 
to children, or the rustic inhabitants of the villages, we shall 
see that they all turn their feet inwardly. The other 
position is purely invention ; and the proof of its being only 
the result of tuition and pains is, that a painter would 
transgress as much against nature as the rules of his art, 
were he to place the feet of his portrait in the situation of a 
dancer's. It is plain, then, that to dance elegantly, walk 
gracefully, or address ourselves with ease and manliness, 
we must absolutely reverse the nature of things ; and force 
our limbs by artificial applications, equally tedious and 
painful, to assume a very different situation from what they 
originally received. Such a change, however necessary in 
this art, can only be accomplished by laying its foundation 
in the earUest stages of infancy, when every bone and 
muscle is in a state of pliability, and capable of receiving 
any direction which we choose to give it. 

"Music and dancing," continues the eloquent ballet- 
master, " are kindred arts ; the tender and harmonious 
accents of the one excite and produce the agreeable and ex- 
pressive motions of the other, and their «inion entertains 



DANCING. ^11 

ilie eye and ear with animated pictures of sentiments ; these 
two senses again convey to the heart the interesting images 
which aiFect them ; while the heart in its turn commmii- 
cates them to the mental faculty : thus the pleasure result- 
ing from the harmony and intelligence of these two arts 
enchants the spectator, and fills him with the most seducing 
pleasures of voluptuousness." 

After this grandiloquent peroration we must dismiss 
M. Noverre, respectfiilly tendering to his memory those 
four profound reverences which, we are taught, should be 
the invariable homage offered to so august -a j)ersonage as a 
dancing-master ! 

Other teachers of this art, having oTsserved that music 
was capable of being pursued and conveyed by written 
characters, imagined by analogy that the like advantage 
might be extended to the composition of dances. Upon 
this plan they attempted what is called chorography, an art 
which they suppose to have been utterly unknown to the 
ancients, or not transmitted to us from them. The track 
or figure of a dance may indeed be determined by diagrams 
and engraved lines, but these will necessarily appear so 
perplexing, so intricate, so difficult, if not impossible, to 
seize in their various relations, that they will only disgust 
and discourage, instead of conveying any satisfactory or 
retainable instruction. 

We have spoken of the restoration of dancing as a polite 
Brt at the revival of literature ; but however rude and un- 
cultivated might be its nature, and however little it may 
«eem to be adapted to the genius of our countrymen, it 
seems never to have been out of favour and fashion in Eng- 
land. In the middle ages it was reckoned among the gen- 
teel accomplishments necessary to be acquired by both 
sexes ; and in the romances of those times the character 
of a hero was incomplete unless he danced excellently. 
This recreation was constantly put in practice among the 
nobility upon days of festivity, and was countenanced by 
the example of the court. After the coronation-dinner of 
Richard II., the king, the prelates, the nobles, the knights, 
and the rest of the com|>any danced in Westminster Hall 
to the music of the minstrels. Sir John Hawkins mentions 
a dance called pavon, from pavo — a peacock, which might 
have been proper for such an occasion. " It is," says he, 



212 DANCING. 

" a grave and majestic movement ; the method of dancing 
it anciently was by gentlemen dressed in caps and swords, 
by those of the long robe in their gowns, by the peers in 
their mantles, and by the ladies in gowns with long trains, 
the motion whereof in dancing resembled that of a pea- 
cock." Several of our monarchs are praised for their skill 
in dancing, and none of them more than Henry VIIL, who 
was peculiarly partial to this fashionable exercise. In his 
time and in that of his daughter Elizabeth, the English in 
general are said to have been good dancers ; and this com- 
mendation is not denied to them even by foreign writers. 
Polydore Virgil praises the English for their skill in 
dancing ; and Hentzner offers a similar testimony to our 
saltatory skill. 

In their attachment to this recreation the common people 
imitated their superiors ; and it appears that neither the 
grave doctor nor the reverend priest could deny themselves 
the gratification of now and then " sporting a toe." For 
this inculpation, as some may perchance deem it, we have 
the authority of the Ship of Fooles, as paraphrased by 
Barclay : 

The priestes and clerkes to dance have no shame, 

The frere or monke, in his fVocke and cowle, 

Must daunce ; and the doctor lepeth to play the foole. 

Stow laments the abolition of the holyday evening dance 
which he remembered to have seen in his youth, and con- 
sidered it as not only innocent in itself, but as a preventive to 
worse deeds, which he feared would follow the suppression. 
In Shakspeare's Henry V., the Duke of Bourbon, alluding 
to the miUtary inferiority of his countrymen, exclaims : 

Our madams mock at us ; 
They b^d us to the English dancing schools, 
f And teach lavoltas high and swift corantos, 

Saying our grace is only in our heels, 
And that we are most lofty runaways. 

Wlience we not only gather that the French were then, as 
now, the principal teachers of this art in our schools, but 
we learn the name of two of the most fashionable dances 
of the time. The lavolta, says Mr. Douce, is of Italian 
origin, as its name implies. The man turns the woman 



DANCING. 213 

round several times, and then assists her in maMng a high 
spring or cabriole. This danee passed from Italy into Pro- 
vence and the rest of France, and thence into England. 
M. Bodin, an advocate in the parliament of Paris, and a 
very savage and credulous writer on demonology, has 
gravely ascribed its importation into France to the power 
of witches. It seems to have borne some resemblance to 
the modern waltz, at least in its effects, if we may judge 
from the observations of Arbeau, a French writer, who, 
after giving directions for conducting this dance as deco- 
rously as possible, adds, " Ce fait, vous ferez par ensemble 
les tours de la volte, comme 9'y dessus a est^ dit : et apres 
avoir toumoy^ par tant de cadan9es qu'il vous plaira, resti- 
tuerez la demoiselle en sa place, ou elle sentira (quelque 
bonne contenance qu'elle fasse) son cerveau est branl^, plein 
de vertigues et toumoyements de teste, et vous n'en aurez 
peult estre pas moins. Je vous laisse a considerer si c'est 
chose bien seante a unejeune fiUe, et si en cette volte I'hon- 
neur et la sant^ y sont pas hasardez et interessez." 

During the civil wars, aiid under the sway of the gloomy 
puritans, dancing, like other sports and pastimes, suffered 
a temporary eclipse only to revive with greater splendour at 
the Restoration. From the time of the merry monarch to 
our own days this recreation has nev-er for a moment been 
out of favour and fashion, though it has frequently varied 
in its modes. Beau Nash, who was for so many years 
master of the ceremonies at Bath, may be considered the 
founder of modern ball-room dancing, which has been 
divested of much of its formality and improved in various 
other respects since the time of that singular person. Let 
it not be understood, however, that we include among the 
improvements the discontinuance of the graceful minuet, 
derived to us, perhaps, from the stately pavon of former 
times. 

The French country dances, or contre-danses (from the 
parties being placed opposite to each other), since called 
quadrilles, from their having four sides, which approximate 
nearly to the cotillon, were first introduced into France about 
the middle of Louis XV.'s reign. Previously to this period 
the dances most in vogue were la perigourdine, la matelotte, 
la pavane, les forlanes, minuets, &c. Quadrilles, when 
first introduced, were danced by four persons only ; four 



2 1 4 DANCING. 

more were soon added, and thus the complete square was 
formed, but the fiorures varied materially ftom those of the 
present period. The gentlemen advanced with the oppo- 
site ladies, menaced each other with the fore-fingers, and 
retired clapping their hands three times ; they then turned 
hands of four, turned their own partners, and grand rond 
of all concluded the figure. From this period the art of 
dancing may be said to have degenerated rather than ad- 
vanced, until the time of the French Revolution, when the 
splendid apartments of the Hotel de Richelieu were opened as 
dancing-rooms for the accommodation of the higher classes. 
A band of twenty-four eminent musicians was found, tunes 
were composed in different keys, with full orchestral accom- 
paniments, a new era commenced in dancing, the old figures 
were abolished, and stage steps were adopted. Minuets 
and forlanes were still continued, but M. Vestris displaced 
the latter by the gavotte, which was first danced at a f§te 
given by a lady of celebrity at the Hotel de Valentinois, 
rue St. Lazar, on the 16th of August, 1797, upon which 
occasion M. HuUin introduced an entirely new set of figures 
of his own composition. Ttiese elicited general appro- 
bation, they were danced at all parties, and still retain their 
pre-eminence. The names of pantalon, I'et^, la poule, la 
Trenis, &c., which were given to the tunes, have been ap- 
plied to the figures. The figure of la Trenis was intro- 
duced by desire of M. Trenis, it being part of a gavotte 
danced in the favourite ballet of Nina. 

Practised by Jupiter himself, the saltipotent monarch of 
Olympus, forming a distinguishing attribute of Apollo, the 
orchestes, or dancer par excellence, as Pindar calls him, and 
deemed a divine art by the ancient sages and philosophers, 
dancing, even in the degenerate days of the moderns, has 
been heldj in a becoming reverence, and distinguished by 
many flattering, though perhaps inadequate honours. We 
have alluded to the public and enthusiastic coronation of 
M. Noverre, whose head, usurping the guerdon that be- 
longed more especially to his heels, was wreathed with 
laurel for the composition of a successful ballet ; we have 
seen opera figurantes evince such incontestable proofs, in 
their pirouettes and entrechats, of their possessing all the 
conjugal and domestic virtues, that they have obtained peers 
for husbands, and have been removed to cut capers for the 



DANCING. 216 

Special delight of the aristocracy, when the most exquisite 
singers and musicians failed to command silence at the 
opera , we know that the whole enraptured theatre was 
hushed in a breathless dumb delight, the moment the 
younger Vestris commenced a pas seul ; and now, in order 
that his posthumous renown may even transcend his living 
glories, a not unworthy bard, "Thespiadom decus immor- 
tale sororum," has embalmed and apotheosised his memory 
in a mock-heroic poem, which, taking this dieu de la danse 
for its sponsor and inspirer, celebrates his praises with 
a happy combination of learned research, sparkling wit, and 
mellifluous poetry.* From this work we shall extract a few 
passages as a pleasant and appropriate peroration to our 
chapters upon dancing, t Vestris, summoned into the pre- 
sence of the Queen of England, at Windsor, claims free- 
dom of speech as the peculiar privilege of the land to which 
he has become a. visiter, and then ventures to draw the fol- 
lowing unfavourable portrait of the natives : 

See but ]\ovr gauche they enter a saloon, 

Almost enough, I vow, to make one swoon ! 

Whene'er I meet them at a ball or play, 

I 'm half-disposed to turn another way. — 

You call them statesmen, and you call them true, 

So mighty stately in whate'er they do ; 

Born bankers, coachmen, bruisers, financiers — 

But dance they cannot,— no, not for their ears ! 

The plants the Graces set but ill succeed, 

Or on the Thames, the Liffey, or the Tweed : 

Cross the North Sea, — the German, Swede, and Dane, 

Of clumsy feats ridiculously vain. 

Twirl, as they simper round their Gothic halls, 

Their frowsy juffrouws in a vulgar waltz ; 

Or trampling loudly with tumultous heel, 

Shake the rude rafters with the clattering reel. — 

But for the French, kind nature from their birth 
Elastic soles prepares that spurn the earth ; 
With prodigality of hand has given 
Heads that aspire beyond the clouds of heaven ; 
Has given an air, &c. 

Canto ii. p. 75. 

Vestris challenges his rival Duport to a public trial of 

* See The Vestriad, a poem, by Hans Busk, Esq., author of ''The 
Banquet," " The Dessert," &c. London, 1819. 

1 Of which the materials have been chiefly compiled from The Vestriad 
and its notes, Strutt's Sports and Pastimes, Douce's Illustrations of 
Shakspeare, &c. ; but more especially from an elaborate article in the 
Encyclopaedia Britannica, founded upon the work of M. Noverre. 



216' ©ANCINGr 

skill on the boards of the Parisian opera, which is tftisar- 
described. 

Hark ! bark ! what prodigy their transports hushes, 

Ajax again across the welkin rushes ;— 

So fluent spins, so voluble he wheels, 

Th' unconscious floor his touch no longer feels; 

With nice precision and with just command, 

Through air he steers, and scarcely deigns to landy-- 

Terpsichore exults, nay, all the nine 

Lean from their boxes and exclaim " divine I" 

Apollo, bending from the lofty dome, 

Prepares to snatch him to the heavenly home. 

With silver fingers sweeps the golden lyre, 
' And breathes o'er all his frame ethereal fire.— 

Now both the heroes, with extended loe, 
:' On the loose air their weight corporeal throw,- 

Together wind the whirling pirouette, 

Like tiptoe Mercuries on an old gazette, 

Full three times ten revolving on one knee. 

Then on the other axis ten times three. 

With simultaneous heat and concrete graces. 

Their backs alternately ecUpse their faces. 

Ajax at length his cyclick labour ends, 

And his firm person on one leg extentfe. — 

His rival, to secure his tottering fi-ame, 

Leans for support towards the Paphian dame j 

But from distraction, or some secret cause, 

Her proffer'd aid she fatally withdraws. 

Still with one entrechat he twnpts his fate. 

But the last struggle comes, alas ! too late. 

No more his sole aspires the sky to reach, 

His treacherous heels his falling skill impeacby 

By one false movement all his strength betray'd^ 

He and his towering hopes are prostrate laid. 

Here ends the dancer, demigod, and sage, 
Europe's delight— the wonder of the age ! 
On the cold ground his beauteous figure lies, 
No more to rise and dance before our eyes : 
He whose proud boast enlarged the bounds of art. 
And taught the feet to climb above the heart, 
Whose radiant track with emanations bright, 
Sfoh?d a new era in this age of light. 

Quito V, p. 215, ^21; 



MORRIS-DANCERS. 217 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

The Morris-dancers. 

" It was my hap of late, by chance, 
To meet a country morris-dance. 
When cheefest of them all, the foole, 
Play'd with a ladle and a toole ; 
But when the hobby-horse did wihy, 
Then all the wenches gave a tihy ; 
But when they gan to shake their boxe. 
And not a goose could catch a foxe, 
The piper then put up his pipes, 
And all the woodcocks lookt like snipes." 

Cobbers Prophecies, 4to. London, 1614. 

Both English and foreign glossaries, observes Mr. Douce,* 
uniformly ascribe the origin of this dance to the Moors, 
although the genuine Moorish or Morisco dance was, no 
doubt, very different from the European morris. Strutt, 
an his Sports and Pastimes, has cited a passage in the Play 
of Variety, 1649, in which the Spanish morisco is men- 
tioned ; and this, Mr. Douce adds, not only shows the legiti- 
macy of the term morris, but that the real and uncorrupted 
Moorish dance was to be found in Spain, where it still con- 
tinues to delight both natives and foreigners under the name 
of the fandango. The Spanish morris was also danced at 
puppet-shows, by a person habited like a Moor, with casta- 
nets ; and Junius has informed us that the dancers usually 
blackened their faces with soot, that they might the better 
pass for Moors.t We have already shown that both cards 
and chess, in their progress to us from the east, underwent 
considerable changes and modifications, and it will be seen 
that the dance of which we are writing received, in like 

* In a Dissertation on the ancient English morris-dance, at the end of 
the second volume of his Illustrations of Shakspeare ; whence we have 
largely borrowed. 

t Brand's Popular Antiquities, vol. i. p. 208. 
T 



218 



MORRIS-DANCERS. 



manner, various alterations from the original form. At one 
period it was mixed with the Pyrrhic, or sword dance, which 
by some means or other got introduced into England, where 
it was generally exhibited by women. -A performance of 
this nature seems to be alluded to in the second part of King 
Henry VI., act iii. scene 1 : 

1 have seen him 



Caper upright like a wild Morisco, 
Shaking the bloody darts, as he his bells. 

Tabourot, the oldest and most curious writer on the art 
of dancing, says, that in his youthful days, about the begin- 
ning of the sixteenth century, it was the custom in good 
societies for a boy to come into the hall when supper was fin- 
ished, with his face blackened, his forehead bound with white 
or yellow taffeta, and bells tied to his legs. He then pro- 
ceeded to dance the morisco, the whole length of the hall, 
backward and forward, to the great amusement of the 
company. This was the ancient and uncorrupted morris- 
dance, the more modern sort of which he afterward de- 
scribes, and gives the following as the air to which it was 
performed : 

_L 



m 



^ 



s 



m 



¥ 



i 



m 



^^± 



±_^ 



It has been supposed that the morris-dance was first 
brought into England in the reign of Edward III., and when 
John of Gaunt returned from Spain ; but it is much more 
probable that we had it from our Gallic neighbours, or the 
Flemings. About the time of Henry VII. and VIII., we 
have abundant materials for showing that the morris-dance 
made a very considerable figure in the parochial festivals. 
The May-games of Robin Hood, which appear to have been, 
principally instituted for the encouragement of archery, 



MORRIS-DANCERS. 219 

were generally accompanied by morris-dancers, who formed 
nevertheless but a subordinate part of the ceremony. Other 
festivals and ceremonies had their morris ; — as Holy Thurs- 
day ; the Whitsun-ales ; the Bride-ales, or weddings ; and 
a sort of play, or pageant, called the Lord of Misrule. Of 
the latter an account has been handed down to us by a pu- 
ritanical writer of Queen Elizabeth's time, who thus de- 
scribes the pastime : " First, all the wilde heads of the 
parish, flocking together, chuse them a graund captaine (of 
mischief), whome they innoble with the title of My Lord of 
Misrule, and him they crowne with great solemnitie, and 
adopt for their king. This king annoynt£<l, chooseth foorth 
twentie, fourtie, threescore, or a hundred lustie guttes like 
to himself, to wait upon his lordly majestie, and to guarde 
his noble person. Then every one of these his men he in- 
vesteth with his liveries of greene, yellow, or some other 
light wanton coUour. And as though that were not gawdy 
ynough, they bedecke themselves with scarfFes, ribands, and 
laces, hanged all over with golde ringes, precious stones, 
and other jewels. This done, they tie about their legge 
twentie or fourtie belles, with rich handkerchiefe in their 
hands, and sometimes laide across over their shoulders and 
neckes, borrowed for the most part of their pretie mopsies 
and loving Bessies, for bussing them in the darke. Thus 
all things set in order, then have they their hobby-horses, 
their dragons, and other antiques, together with ther handle 
pipers and thundering drummers, to strike up the devWs 
daunce withall. Then march this heathen company towards 
the church and church-yarde, their pypers pyping, their 
drummers thundering, their stumpes dauncing, their belles 
iyngling, their handkerchiefe s fluttering about their heades 
like madde men, their hobbie-horses and other monsters 
skirmishing among the throng ; and in this sorte they goe 
to the church (though the minister be at prayer or preach- 
ing), dauncing and swinging their handkerchiefes over their 
heades in the church, like devils incarnate, with such a con 
fused noyse that no man can heare his owne voyce. Then 
the foolish people they looke, they stere, they laugh, they 
fleere, and mount upon forms and pewes to see these goodly 
pageants solemnised in this sort. Then after this, about 
the church they goe againe and againe, and so fourth into 
the church-yard, where they have commonly their summer 



220 MORRIS-DANCERS. 

haUles, their bowers, arbours, and banquetting houses set 
up, wherein they feaste, banquet, and daunce all that day, 
and peradventure, all that night too. And thus these ter- 
restrial furies spend the sabboth day. Another sort of fan- 
tasticall fooles bring to these hellhounds (the Lord of Misrule 
and his accomplices), some bread, some good ale, some new 
cheese, some old cheese, some custard, some cracknels, 
some cakes, some flaunes, some tarts, some cream, some 
meat, some one thing, some another; but if they knewe 
that as often as they bring anye to the maintenance of Cb^se 
execrable pastimes, they offer sacrifice to the devill and 
sathanas, they would repent and withdraw their hands, 
which God graunt they may."* It is probable that when 
the practice of archery declined, the May-games of Robin 
Hood were discontinued, and that the morris-dance was 
transferral to the celebration of Whitsuntide, either as con- 
nected with the Whitsun-ales or as a separate amusement. 
In the latter instance it appears to have retained one or two 
of the characters in the May-pageants, but the arrange- 
ment doubtless varied in different places according to the 
humour or convenience of the parties. 

The painted-glass window at Betley, in Staffordshire, 
exhibits in all probability the oldest as well as most curious 
representation of an English May-game and morris-dance 
that is any where to be found. It has been assigned to the 
time of Edward IV., and enables us to ascertain some of 
the personages of which the May-games and morris con- 
sisted at the period of its execution. To trace, with any 
accuracy, their original forms and numbers, or the progres- 
sive changes they have undergone, would be impossible. 
Sometimes we have a lady of the May, simply with a Friar 
Tuck ; and in later times a Maid Marian remained without 
even a Robin Hood or a Friar. The more ancient May- 
game and morris consisted of the following characters : 
Robin Hood, Little John, Friar Tuck, Maid Marian, the 
queen or lady of the May, the fool, the piper, and several 
morris-dancers, habited, as it appears, in various modes. 
Afterward a hobby-horse and a dragon were added. 

Robin Hood is too well known to need any description* 
Little John, his faithful companion, is first mentioned by 

* Stubbes's Anatomie of Abusea 



MORRIS-DANCERS. 221 

Fordun, the Scottish historian, who wrote in the fourteenth 
century, and speaks of these persons in the theatrical 
performances of his time, and of the minstrels' songs relat- 
ing to them, which he says the common people preferred 
to all other romances. Of Friar Tuck there is no very an- 
cient mention, and his history is uncertain. He is known 
to have formed one of the May-game characters during the 
reign of Henry VHI., and is probably of much earlier origin. 
It is surmised that the term is derived from the dress of the 
order, which was tucked or folded at the waist, by means of 
a cord or girdle. Thus Chaucer, in his preface to the Can- 
terbury Tales, says, " Tucked he was, as is a freere about." 
This friar maintained his situation in the morris under the 
reign of Elizabeth, but is not heard of afterward. In Ben 
Jonson's Mask of Gipsies, the clown takes notice of his 
being omitted in the dance. 

Maid Marian. Bishop Percy and Mr. Stevens agree in 
making this character the mistress of Robin Hood, an 
opinion which the latter supports by the following quotation 
from the old play of " The Downfall of Robert, Earl of 
Huntingdon, 1601," whence it would appear that Maid Ma- 
rian was originally a name assumed by Matilda, the daugh- 
ter of Lord Fitzwalter, when Robin Hood remained in a 
state of outlawry. 

Next 'tis agreed (if thereto slie agree) 
That f'aire Matilda henceforth change her name, 
And while it is the chance of Robin Hoode 
To live in Sherewodde a poor outlaw's life, 
She by Maide Marian's name be only call'd. 

Mat. — ^I am contented, reade on little John. 

Henceforth let me be named Maide Marian. 

Mr. Douce, however, w^ho considers this story as a dramatic 
fiction, observes that none of the materials of the more au- 
thentic history of Robin Hood prove the existence of any 
such person in the character of his mistress. There is a 
French pastoral drama so early as the eleventh or twelfth 
century, in which the principal characters are Robin and 
Marion, a shepherd and shepherdess. The latter name, 
which never occurs in the page of English history, and was 
probably imported from France, is not compounded of Mary 
and Anne, but forins a corruption, as it is conjectured, of 
T 3 



222 MORRIS-DANCERS. 

Miriam the prophetess, whose dancing women, with their 
timbrels, may have suggested the first notion of the female 
morris-dancer. Maid Marian not only officiated as the para- 
mour of Robin Hood in the May-games, but as the queen 
or lady of the May, who seems to have been introduced 
long before the name of the bold outlaw was known, and 
who may be deemed the legitimate representative of the 
goddess Flora in the Roman festival. She was usually 
dressed according to the fashion of the time, holding a 
flower in her hand, and wearing a fancy coronet. Her gait 
was nice and affected. Thus, in the old ballad of the Miller 
of Mansfield : 

And so they jetted down towards the king's hall : 
The merry old miller with his hands on his side, 
His wife, like Maid Marion, did mince at that tide. 

In the time of Elizabeth, when the morris had degene- 
rated into a piece of coarse buffoonery, and this once elegant 
queen of May was personated by a clownish boy, she ob- 
tained the name of Malkin, and was thus assimilated to a 
vulgar drudge or scullion ; but during the whole of her 
existence mirth and gayety were her constant companions 
nor was this character, even in later times, uniformly vul- 
gar. Our poets and pastoral writers, up to a comparatively 
recent period, thought they could not pay a higher compli- 
ment to the fair object of their admiration than to crown 
her as queen of the May.* 

The Fool, in point of dress, was the same as the domes- 
tic buffoon of his time, with the addition of bells to his 
arms and ankles. In the absence of some of the other 
characters of the morris-dance, the exertions of the fool 
appear to have been increased, as we learn from Ben Jon- 
son's Entertainment at Althrope. 

But see, the hobby-horse is forgot, 
Foole, it must be your lot, 
To supply his want with faces 
And some other buffoon graces. 

In the modem morris-dance the fool is continued, but his 
real character and dress have been long since forgotten, 
though their history may not be altogether unworthy of a 

* Cunningham's mellifluous poem on this subject is, perhaps, the last 



MORRIS-DANCERS. 223 

passing reminiscence. " According to the illuminators of 
the thirteenth century, he bears the squalid appearance of e 
wretched idiot, wrapped in a blanket which scarcely cove? 
his nakedness, holding in one hand a stick with an inflated 
bladder attached to it by a cord, which answered the pur 
pose of a bawble. If we view him in his more improved 
state, where his clothing is somewhat better, yet his tricks 
are so exceedingly barbarous and vulgar that they would 
disgrace the most despicable Jack Pudding that ever ex- 
hibited at Bartholomew Fair ; and even when he was more 
perfectly equipped in his party-coloured coat and hood, and 
completely decorated with bells, his improvements add but 
little to his respectability, and still less do they qualify him 
as a companion for kings and noblemen." 

" In the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries the fool, or 
more properly the jester, was a man of some ability ; and 
if his character has been strictly drawn by Shakspeare and 
other dramatic Avriters, the entertainment he afforded con- 
sisted in witty retorts and sarcastic reflections ; and his 
license seems upon such occasions to have been very ex- 
tensive."* 

Tom the Piper, an obvious and necessary attendant upon 
dancers, requires very little illustration. Spenser, in his 
third eclogue, speaking of the rhymes of bad poets, ob- 
serves that " Tom Piper makes as little melodie ;" whence 
we are to infer that his music was not usually of the very 
best kind. 

The hobby-horse, as has been already observed, was 
often omitted in the morris. During the reign of Queen 
Elizabeth the puritans made sad havoc among the May- 
games by their preachings and invectives. Poor Maid Ma- 
rian was assimilated to the scarlet abomination of Babylon ; 
Friar Tuck was deemed a remnant of popery, and the 
hobby-horse an impious and Pagan superstition. King 
James's Book of Sports restored the lady and the hobby- 
horse, but during the commonwealth they were again 
attacked by a new set of fanatics and were suppressed, 
together with the whole of the May festivities, Whit- 
sun-ales, &c. At the Restoration they were once more 

* Strutt's Complete View of the Dress and Habits of the People of 
England, vol. ii. p. 313, 



224 MORRIS-DANCERS 

revived. The hobby-horse was represented by a, man 
equipped vpith as much pasteboard as was sufficient to form 
the head and hinder parts of a horse, the quadrupedal defi- 
ciencies being concealed by a long footcloth that nearly 
touched the ground. On this occasion the performer ex- 
erted all his skill in burlesque horsemanship. In Samp- 
son's play of the Vowbreaker, 1636, a miller, being angry 
that the major of the city is put in competition with him 
in enacting this character, says, "Have I practised my 
reines, my careeres, my pranckers, my ambles, my false 
trots, my Canterbury paces, and shall master major put me 
beside the hobby-horse ? Have I borrowed the fore-horse 
bells, his plumes, and braveries, nay, had his mane new 
shorn and frizzled, and shall the major put jne beside the 
hobby-horse 1" 

To the horse's mouth was suspended a ladle for the pur- 
pose of gathering money from the spectators, an office 
which in later times was performed by the fool. In Nashe's 
play of Summer'' s Last Will and Testament^ there enter 
three clowns and three maids who dance the morris, and at 
the same time sing the following song : 

Trip and goe, heave and hoe, 
Up and downe, to and fro, 
From the towne to the grove, 
Two and two, let us rove, 
A Maying, a playing ; 
Love hath no gainsaying, 
So merrily trip and goe. 

A short time before the Revolution in France, the May- 
games and morris-dance were celebrated in many parts of 
that country, accompanied by a fool and a hobby-horse, 
termed a chevalet ; and, if the authority of Minsheu be not 
questionable, the Spaniards had the same character, under 
the name of the Tarasca. 

The Dragon is introduced in Sampson's play of the Vow- 
breaker, as early as 1633, where a fellow says, " I'll be a 
fiery dragon ;" and another observes, that he will be " a 
thundering St. George as ever rode on horseback.'' This 
seems to affiDrd a clew to the use of the dragon, w lo was 
probably attacked in some ludicrous manner by tha hobby 
horse saint. 

In the reign of Henry VIII. the morris-dancers were 



JUGGLERS. 225 

dressed in gilt leather and silver paper, and sometimes ^n 
coats of white and spangled ftistian. They had purses ii^ 
their girdlss, and garters to which bells were attached, vary- 
ing in number from twenty to forty, and distinguished by 
different appellations, as the fore bell, the second bell, the 
treble, the tenor, the bass, and the double bell. Sometimes 
the hat was decorated with a nosega)'^, or with the herb 
thrift, formerly called our lady's cushion. A very few years 
sinc^ a company of morris-dancers, attended by a boy, 
Maia Mariai.> a hobby-horse, and a fi, )1, was seen at Usk, 
m Monmouthshire, where they profess to have kept up this 
ceremony for the last three hundred years. This, and one or 
two other modem instances, Mr. Douce has thought it proper 
to record in the dissertation to which we have been so largely 
indebted, because he thinks it extremely probable " that 
from the present rage for refinement and innovation, there 
will remain in the course of a short tinio but few vestiges of 
our popular customs and antiquities." 



CHAPTER XIX. 

Jugglers. 

" Gardener.— Vryi\L&e, John, what sort of a creature is a conjurer? 

Butler.— Why, he's made much as other men are, if it was not for his 
long gray beard. His beard is at least half a yard long ; he's dressed 
in a strange dark cloak, as black as a coal. He has a long white wand 
in his hand. 

Coachman. — I fancy it is made out of witch elm. 

Butler.— mo ; the wand, look you, is to make a circle. A circle, you 
must know, is a conjurer's trap. The Drummer. 

Should any utilitarian reader blame us for wasting our 
time and his upon a class of people not often deemed 
either respectable or useful, we beg to refer him to the third 
volume of the History of Inventions, by Professor Beck- 
mann, who vindicates their cause, including in his defence, 
under the general denomination of Jugglers, the rope- 
dancers, and such as exhibit feats of uncommon strength. 
At a moment like the present, when from the effects of a 



226 JUGGLERS. 

redundant population every useful employment is full, and 
even overstocked, his arguments ought to be considered 
cogent, at least by the political economists. 

These arts, he observes, are not unprofitable, for they 
afford a comfortable subsistence to those who practise them, 
which they usually spend upon the spot, and this he con- 
siders a good reason why their stay in a place ought to be 
encouraged. He is also of opinion, that if the arts of jug- 
gling served no other end than to amuse the most ignorant 
of our citizens, it is proper that they should be patronised 
for the sake of those who cannot enjoy the more expensive 
deceptions of an opera, especially as they often convey in- 
struction in the most acceptable manner, and serve as an 
antidote to superstition. In these observations we fully 
concur, holding that it is wise on every account to preserve 
the few harmless amusements still left to the poor ; and as 
to the trite objection that it is cajoling them of their hard- 
earned pittance by useless deceptions, we reply that their 
money is much better thus expended than in the gin-shop 
or the ale-house, to which they are already too much driven 
by the curtailment of their appropriate recreations. 

Juggling is certainly of very great antiquity. Pharaoh's 
magicians may be deemed the earliest practitioners of the 
art. Some of the slaves in Sicily performed the deception 
of breathing out flames about 150 years before the Chris- 
tian era ; and according to Plutarch, Alexander the Great 
was astonished and delighted with the secret effects of 
naphtha, exhibited to him at Ecbatana. Wonder has been 
excited in modem times by persons who could walk over 
burning coals or hot iron, which is easily done by rendering 
the skin of the feet -allous and insensible. Beckmann as- 
serts that the Hirpi who dwelt near Rome jumped through 
burning coals ; that wonren were accustomed to perform a 
similar exploit at Castabala, near the temple of Diana ; 
that the exhibition of cups and balls is often mentioned in 
the works of the ancients ; and that the various feats of 
horsemanship exhibited in our circuses passed, in the thir- 
teenth century, from Egypt to the Byzantine court, and 
thence over all Europe. 

The joculator or jongleur of the Normans, whence was 
derived the juggler of more modern times, received abou 
the fourteenth century the name of tragetoury a terra mo. 



JUGGLERS. 227 

especially applied to those performers who, by sleight of 
hand, with the assistance of various machines and confede- 
rates, deceived the eyes of the spectators and produced 
illusions that were usually attributed to enchantment. Ac- 
cording to the descriptions transmitted to us, the wonders 
they performed prove them to have been no mean practi- 
tioners in the art, and excite the less surprise that in a 
credulous age they should have been ranked with magi- 
cians. Chaucer, who had no doubt frequently seen the 
tricks he describes, thus speaks of them : " There are," 
says he, " sciences by which men can delude the eye with 
divers appearances, such as the subtle tragetours perform 
at feasts. In a large hall they will produce water, with 
boats rowed up and down upon it. Sometimes they will 
bring in the similitude of a grim lion, or make flowers spring 
up as in a meadow ; sometimes they cause a vine to flourish 
bearing white and red grapes, or show a castle built with 
stone ; and, when they please, they cause the whole to dis- 
appear." 

He then speaks of a learned clerk, who, for the amuse- 
ment of his friend, showed to him forests foil of wild deer, 
where he saw a hundred of them slain, some with hands 
and some with arrows : the hunting being finished, a com- 
pany of falconers appeared upon the banks of a fair river, 
where the birds pursued the herons and slew them. He 
then saw knights jousting upon a plain ; and, by way of 
conclusion, the resemblance of his beloved lady dancing. 
But when the master who had wrought this magic thought 
fit, he clapped his hands, and all was gone in an instant. 
If these illusions were not produced by means of a magic 
lantern or some similar device, they must be confessed to 
equal all that is recorded of the ancient Eleusinian mys- 
teries. Chaucer attributes such deceptions to natural 
magic ; meaning probably some occult combination of 
natural powers ; a solution which would hardly pass cur- 
rent with the vulgar in those days, when the properties of 
matter and of the elements were very little understood. 

Froissart records a scarcely less marvellous instance of a 
jugglei, who possessed not, however, the art of saving his 
own head from the block. " When the Duke of Anjou and 
the Earl of Savoy," says that author, " were lying with 
their army before ,the city of Naples, there was an en- 



228 JUGGLERS. 

chanter, a cunning man in necromancy, who promised the 
duke that he would put him in possession of the castle 
of Leufe, at that time besieged by him. The duke was 
desirous of knowing by what means this could be effected, and 
the magician said, ' I shall, by enchantment, make the air 
so thick that they within the castle will think there is a 
great bridge over the sea, large enough for ten men abreast 
to come to them ; and when they see this bridge they will 
readily yield themselves to your mercy, lest they should be 
taken perforce.' ' And may not my men,' said the duke, 
' pass over this bridge in reality V To this question the 
juggler artfully replied, ' I dare not, sir, assure you that ; 
for if any one of the men that passeth over the bridge shall 
make the sign of the cross upon him, all shall go to naught, 
and they that be upon it shall fall into the sea.' The Earl 
of Savoy, being made acquainted with this conference, said 
to the duke, ' I know well it is the same enchanter who 
caused by his craft the sea to seem so high, that they within 
this castle were sore abashed, and feared all to have died.' 
The earl then commanded the enchanter to be brought be- 
fore him, when he boasted that by the power of his art he 
had caused the castle to be delivered to Sir Charles de la 
Paye, who was then in possession of it. ' By my faith,' 
said the Earl of Savoy, ' ye shall never do more enchant- 
ments to deceive him, nor yet any other.' So saying he 
ordered him to be beheaded ; and the sentence was instantly 
put into execution before the door of the earl's tent." 

In England the king's juggler continued to have an es- 
tablishment in the royal household till the time of Henry 
VIII., in whose reign the office and title seem to have been 
discontinued. Our learned monarch James I. imagined 
that the feats exhibited by these people could only be per- 
formed by the agency of the Devil, who, he says, " will 
learne them many juglarie trickes at cardes and dice, to 
deceive men's senses thereby, and such innumerable false 
practicques, which are proved by over many in this age." 
His majesty proceeds to inform us, in explanation of the 
mystery they employ, that " the art of sorcery consists in 
diverse forms of circles and conjurations rightly joined 
together, few or more in number, according to the number of 
the persons conjurers and the form of the apparition. All 
things being ready and prepared, the circles are made, tri- 
angular, quadrangular, round, double, or single." 



JUGGLERS. 229 

This, Grose observes, may be a very accurate description 
of the mode of conjuration styled the circular method ; but 
with all due. respect to his majesty's learning, square and 
triangular circles are figures not to be found in Euclid, or 
in any of the common writers on geometry. But perhaps 
King James learned his mathematics from the same system 
as Dr. Sacheverell, who, in one of. his speeches or sermons, 
made use of the following simile ; " They concur like 
parallel lines meeting in one common centre." Reginald 
Scott tells us that these magic circles are commonly nine 
feet in breadth, but the eastern magicians must give seven. 
He was a liberal, however, for the age in which he lived 
(1584'ii for he adds, "howbeit, if these things be done for 
mirth and recreation, and not to the hurt of our neighbour, 
nor to the abusing or prophaning of God's name, in mine 
opinion they are neither impious nor altogether unlawful ; 
though herein or hereby a natural thing be made to seem 
unnatural." 

Ady, in his " Candle in the Dark," p. 29, speaking of 
common jugglers, that go up and down to play their tricks 
m fairs and markets, says, " I will speak of one m.an more 
excelling in that craft than others, that went about in King 
James his time, and long since, who called himself the king''s 
majesties most excellent hocus pogus, and so was he called, 
because that at the playing of every trick he used to say 
Hocus pocus,* tontus, talontus, vade celeriter jubeo,' a 
darke composure of words to blinde the eyes of beholders." 

In the fourteenth century, the tragetours seem to have 
been in the zenith of their glory, from which period they 
gradually declined in the popular esteem. In an old mo- 
rality, or interlude, written in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, 
a servant, describing the sports at his master's wedding, 
says : 

What juggling was there upon the boards ! 
What Ihrustyng of knives thro' many a nose! 

* Archbishop Tillotson tells us that those common juggling words 
hxKits'pocus are nothing else but a corruption of hoc est corpus, by way 
of ridiculous imitation of the priests of the church of Rome in their trick 
of transubstantiation. Hiccius doctius, also a common term among 
our modem sleight-of-hand men, is probably borrowed from the old Ro- 
man Catholics, the presence of whose priests in the assemblies of th« 
people was usually announced by exclamations of hie est doctus ! hic 
est doctus ! 

U 



230 JUGGLERS. 

What bearing of fonnes ! what holdinge of swords ! 
What puttyng of botkins througli legge and hose ! 

These tricks approximate closely to those of the modem 
jugglers, who have knives so constructed, that vfhen they 
\re applied to the legs, the arms, and other parts of the 
Jiuman figure, they have the appearance of being thrust 
through them.* The bearing of the forms or seats we may 
suppose to have been some sort of balancing ; and the hold- 
ing of swords alludes probably to the sword dance. 

In a short chapter, entitled " Prestigise, or Sleights," pub- 
lished a century and a half ago, we have a view of a jug- 
gler's exhibition. It consists of four divertisements, includ- 
ing the joculator's own performances ; the other three are 
tumbling and jumping through a rope, the grotesque dances 
of the clown or mimic, and dancing upon the tight rope. 
In modern times the juggler has united songs and puppet- 
plays to his show. 

At the close of Queen Elizabeth's reign the profession 
of the juggler, with that of the minstrel, had sunk so low 
in public estimation, that the performers were ranked not 
only with " ruffians, blasphemers, thieves, and vagabonds," 
&ut also with " heretics, Jews, Pagans, and sorcerers." In 
more modern times, by way of derision, the juggler was 
called a hocus pocus, a term applicable to a pickpocket or a 
common cheat. 

These artists were greatly encouraged in the middle ages ; 
Ihey travelled in large companies, and carried with them 
such machinery as was necessary for the performance of 
their deceptions, by which apparatus, with the assistance of 
expert confederates, they might easily produce illusions of 
a very startling and inexplicable nature to spectators totally 
Ignorant of natural philosophy, and prone to every species 
of superstitious credulity. Probably they had no exhibitions 
so astounding at first sight as the modern phantasmagoria, 
the automaton chess-player, the balloon, the sympathetic 
inks, and several of our chemical wonders, phenomena of 
which the principles are now familiar to many a schoolboy. 
Even our fire-eaters and combustible foreigners, who walk 

are but 

* A full description of these tricks with knives, illustrated by engrav 
ings, is given in Malcolm's Customs of London, vol. iii. p. 28. 



JUGGLERS. 231 

renewing pyrotechnic wonders that were known and 
practised centuries ago. The little black-letter " Book of 
Secretes of Albertus Magnus," which discovers many 
*' mervelys of the world," gives full instructions how to 
perform the following exploits : 1. " When thou wilt that 
thou seeme inflamed, or set on fyre from thy head unto thy 
feete, and not be hurt." — 2. "A merveylous experience, 
which maketh menne to go into the fyre without hurte, or 
to beare fyre, or red hot yron in their hande without hurte." 
Dr. Fordyce, Sir Joseph Banks, and others, went into a 
heated room of nearly as high a temperature as M. Cha- 
hert's oven ; the girls mentioned by M. Tillet supported a 
heat of sixty degrees higher ; recent experiments fully con- 
firm the capacity of human beings to endure a still greater 
exposure to heat, without any very serious inconvenience ; 
and, in short, an extension of our philosophical knowledge 
will outjuggle jugglers of every description.* 

Our sapient monarch James I. was not altogether with- 
out grounds for ascribing the marvellous exploits of the 
tragetours to witchcraft and demonology, since instances 
occurred wherein those performers, in order perhaps to ex- 
cite the greater attention, assumed to themselves the pos- 
session of supernatural powers, and even suffered death, 
under their own confession, as wizards and sorcerers. Upon 
this subject Lord Verulam's reflectionsf form a fine contrast 
to the narrow and bigoted ideas of the royal author of the 
Demonology. " Men may not too rashly believe the confes- 
sion of witches, nor yet the evidence against them, for the 
witches themselves are imaginative, and believe ofttimes 
they do that which they do not ; and people are credulous 
on that point, and ready to impute accidents and natural 
operations to witchcraft. It is worthy the observing, that 
both in ancient and late times the great wonders which they 
tell are still reported to be wrought, not by incantations or 
ceremonies, but by anointing themselves all over. This 
may justly move a man to think that these fables are the 
eftects of imagination ; for it is certain that ointments do 

* See Hone's Every-day Book, vol. ii. p, 780, An account of the 
ignivorous achievements of Powel, who exhibited in England about fifty 
years ago, may be found in StriUt's Sports and Pastimes, 4to. , p. 213; 
from which book and Brand's Popular Antiquities these brief notices 
have been chiefly gleaned. 

t In the tenth century of his Natural History. 



232 SEDENTARY AMUSEMENTS. 

all (if they be laid on any thing thick), by stopping of the 
pores, shut in the vapours, and send them to the head 
extremely." 

The age of superstition and credulity is rapidly passing 
away ; a smile of contempt is the principal effect produced 
by the cozening priests who at Naples go through the 
annual mummery of liquefying St. Januarius's blood ; a 
new Faustus might spring up in Germany, or a second 
Galileo at Rome, without any fear of their being punished 
as magicians or heretics ; and that juggler must be a con- 
jurer indeed, who, even at the ignorant village of Tring, 
where the last of the witches was put to death, could now 
persuade his spectators that his legerdemain tricks were of 
a supernatural character, or performed by the aid of demons. 



CHAPTER XX, 



Sedentary Amusements. — Music, Minstrels. 

" The man that hath not music in his soul, 
Nor is not mov'd with concord of sweet sounds. 
Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils. 
The motions of his spirit are dull as night, 
And his affections dark as Erebus : 
Let no such man be trusted." 

Shakspeare, 

Why should we record the various and profound theories 
which have been formed upon the origin and first invention 
of music ] Surely it is more philosophical and true, more 
in accordance with the dictates of religion and the grateful 
promptings of reason, to acknowledge it at once as the 
immediate, the earliest, and the most precious boon of 
Heaven. Nature herself has implanted in the heart of man 
a love of song, and of melodious combinations, by which he 
may give vent to, and create an echo for, his own joy in his 
happier moments, dissipate his sorrows when under afflic- 
tion, and cheer his labour at all times. By this innocent 
artifice the peasant and the mechanic lighten their daily 
drudgery ; and the boatman, as he times the motion of his 



MUSIC MINSTRELS. 233 

oars to some familiar tune, seems to convert his toil into a 
pleasure. It has even, by a sad perversion of its peaceful 
tendencies, emboldened man to confront all the perils of 
war J and Quintilian expressly affirms that the high repu- 
tation of the Roman soldiery was partly attributable to the 
effect produced by the martial sound of the horns and trum- 
pets. Music is the purest, the sweetest, the most endur- 
ing of all our gratifications. If the best things abused 
become the worst, there are few of our blessings which may 
not be said to contain within them the seed of a curse ; but 
from this liability to perversion, from this principle of self- 
corruption, the fascinating art of which we are now treating, 
is in a great measure exempt. " When music, heavenly 
maid, was young," we are indeed told that she possessed 
an infuriating and even a maddening power ; but we are 
not to yield implicit credence to the reveries of poets and 
fabulists. No ; music is naturally an allayer, not an exciter, 
of the angry passions ; she seeks to ally herself with reli- 
gion and virtue, rather than with their opposites ; she is 
our guide, our solace, our preserver from evil temptations ; 
and he who feels not the complacent influence of this guar- 
dian spirit should beware lest he justify the sinister aver- 
ment of our motto. 

To the divine gift of speech, the source of so many inap- 
preciable pleasures and advantages, music adds a universal 
language which all may understand, by which all may be 
equally charmed, and which is infinitely more lively, more 
animated, and better adapted than any other to excite the 
emotions of the heart. There is not, it must be confessed, 
a more noble instrument than the human voice, which, pos- 
sessing exclusively the power of uttering ^articulate and 
intelUgible sounds, can make thought melodious, can infuse 
the whole soul into its mellifluous intonations, and at once 
ravish the ear, subdue the heart, and exercise the intellect. 
But when the soul is penetrated and absorbed by some 
exciting object, ordinary speech is inadequate to the full 
expression of its transports. Yielding to the vehemence 
of its impressions, it effuses itself in cries, exclamatory 
apostrophes, and every variety of impassioned cadence , 
and not content with this vocal outpouring of its feelings, 
it seeks the aid of music, which calms its agitation by im- 
parting to sounds a variety, extent, continuity, and soothv 
U2 



S34 SEDENTARY AMUSEMENTS. 

ing sweetness, which the voice can never attain. Such 
being the effects of this divine science, for such ahnost may 
music be termed, we can little wonder that in the earlier 
ages it was almost exclusively appropriated to the usages of 
religion, whose chief province it is to transport and elevate 
the soul by sentiments of joy, love, and gratitude to heaven. 
In these devout ecstasies, music, supplying what the human 
organs are incompetent to convey, enables the heart to give 
vent to the deep emotions of admiration and rapture ; makes 
it feel its own happiness ; enlarges its holy joy, by the ex- 
pansiveness of correspondent sounds, and seems to furnish 
it with melodious wings that it may waft itself upwards ta 
the great object of its adoration. Such were the purposes 
to which it was applied by David, whose psalms, chanted 
to the accompaniment of voices and instruments, were in- 
tended to make known the miracles of the Deity, and to 
give a more fervent, grand, and sonorous expression to the 
praises, the gratitude, and the homage of man. 

In the infancy of the art, music, when not exclusively 
appropriated to religion, seems to have been restricted, even 
among the Pagan nations, to the highest and most impor- 
tant objects, to which it addre'^'^-ed itself by a character of 
gravity and simplicity. Ancient authors tell us that all the 
laws and exhortations to virtue, the lives and achievements 
of gods, heroes, and illustrious men, were written in verse, 
and sung publicly by a choir to the sound of instruments ; 
a practice which we know to have also prevailed in the 
earliest times among the Israelites. More efficacious means 
for impressing the mind of the hearer with the love of reli- 
gion and virtue could hardly be devised, than when the 
sublime sentiments of both, clothed in all the dulcet acces- 
sories that could captivate the sense and touch the soul, as 
well as hallowed by the sanctifying influences of the temple 
wherein they were promulgated, were poured at once upon 
the ear and upon the heart of the auditor. Such were the 
important effects formerly attributed to this art, both upon 
morals and politics, that Plato and Aristotle, who disagree 
in almost every other maxim, accord in their approbation of 
music as a powerful instrument in softening the roughness 
and ferocity of uncivilized man, and of forming the public 
character of nations. To this high praise, however, it can 
only have been entitled in its primitive state, when, by 



MUSIC MINSTRELS. 235 

drawing the attention of a rude people to the poetry of whi ^h 
it formed the accompaniment, and by assisting to fix in 
their memories the religious doctrines, the legislative edicts, 
or the moral maxims thus publicly chanted, it assumed a 
reasoning and didactic rather than a sensual character, and 
became a powerful assist ant to the divine and the legislator, 
who in those ages were generally musicians also. In the 
infancy of the world, when few or none could read, it was 
necessary to set religion and virtue to music, in order that 
they might the more readily be learned by heart ; just as, in 
our modern infant-schools, we instil the rudiments of 
education by adopting them to some simple and familiar 
tune. However inartificial it might be in its construction, 
we have every reason to conclude that there was infinite 
grandeur and majesty in the music of the ancients, and 
more especially of the Hebrews, whose vocal and instru- 
mental choir, composed of hereditary performers, had not 
only the benefit of incessant tuition, but could scarcely fail 
to catch some portion of the sublimity and inspiration con- 
tained in the canticles on which this art was exercised. 

This was the golden age of music, this was its high and 
palmy state, this the period at which it assumed its noblest 
and most exalted character. Like man himself, it derived 
all its dignity from its subordination to a loftier and more 
spiritual power ; and, like the ambitious angels, it fell when 
it became discontented with the heaven that it enjoyed. 
From the moment when, divorcing itself from poetry, it 
sought to be a principal instead of an accessory, to attach 
more importance to a sound than to a thought, to supersede 
sentiment by skill, to become, in short, man's playfellow 
rather than his assistant teacher, a sensual instead of an 
intellectual gratification, its corruption or at least its appli- 
cation to less ennobling purposes had already commenced. 
We have said that the science was hardly capable of any 
very gross perversion ; but it was now rather associated 
with the earth than with heaven, more employed to reconcile 
man to this world than to prepare him for another ; it was 
rendered subservient to the passions ; presented a new and 
a fascinating pleasure, which, however blameless when in- 
dulged with moderation, was not altogether unsusceptible 
of abuse, since it might tend, by its great power over the 
mind, to subject it to the senses, to fix the soul, as it were, 



236 SEDENTARY AMUSEMENTS. 

in the ears, disinclining them to listen to the voice of wisaom 
and trath, in their overweening fondness for a combination 
of sweet but idealess and unimproving sounds. As the art 
of music, strictly so called, was more assiduously cultivated 
as it became more and more perplexed with complicated 
intricacies, only understood by a few, and less and less an 
exponent of the simple feelings and sentiments that are in- 
telligible to all, it may be said to have lost in general utihty 
and value what it gained in science, and to have been grad- 
ually dissolving that union between sound and sense which 
imparted to it its chief interest aud influence. 

Plutarch complains that in his time the masculine, noble, 
and divine music of the ancients, characterized by such a 
majestic gravity, was superseded by a theatrical style, cal- 
culated to inspire only effeminacy and voluptuousness ; a 
subject on which he thus expresses himself, in the ninth 
book of his Symposiacs : " The degenerate music which 
now prevails, degrading all the arts connected with it, and 
more especially that of dancing, has divorced itself from 
the ancient style, which was altogether divine, and, becom- 
ing associated with trivial and vulgar poetry, has obtained 
possession of our theatres, where it excites such an extrava- 
gant admiration that it is enabled to exercise a complete 
tyranny over the stage. But at the same time it has lost 
the approbation of all those who, by their Avisdom and their 
virtue, ought to be considered the best judges of what is 
decorous and proper." The reader can scarcely fail to apply 
these remarks to modern times and our own country. 
Perhaps the most signal instance of the disassociation 
hmiented by Plutarch is afforded by our English Italian 
operas, where a great portion of the auditors, being ignorant 
of the language, cannot appreciate the consonance, if 
any such exist, between the sentiments and the music ; 
when, consequently, the words falling like inarticulate 
sounds upon the ear, cannot penetrate any further; and 
the pleasure derived from the scientific combinations of the 
composer, the mellifluous cadences of the singer, or the 
manual dexterity of the musicians, calls into exercise neither 
the feelings of the heart, nor the faculties of the head, and 
cannot lay claim, therefore, to any higher distmction than 
that of a strictly sensual, though doubtless a refined and 
elegant, gratification. 



MUSIC MINSTRELS. 23T 

To a certain extent, music has on'y followed the corri^p- 
tion of its associate, poetry, the sister muses having sha^yed 
the same destiny. Confined at first to a strict and perfec. 
imitation of nature, they had no other object than to instruct 
by delighting, and to excite emotions of piety to heaven and 
benevolence towards man. For this purpose they employed 
-the most appropriate expressions, rhythm, and melody. 
Music, always simple and marked by a grave and noble 
decency, respected the limits which had been prescribed by 
the great masters, and more especially by the philosophers 
and legislators, who were generally at the same time poets 
and musicians. But the theatrical spectacles, together 
with the worship of Bacchus and other disorderly deities, 
ultimately depraved these wise regulations. By giving 
birth to the dithyrambic poetry, which was equally licen- 
tious in the expression, the rhythm, and the sentiments, 
they called into existence a music of the same lawless char- 
acter, and thus inflicted an irreparable injury on both.* 

Converted into an elaborate science, or applied to trifling 
and unworthy objects, modern music seldom reaches further 
than the external senses, though it has been doubted whether 
the pleasure it imparts can at any time be strictly termed 
mechanical. " It may indeed happen, from the number of 
the performers, and the complication of the harmony, that 
meaning and sentiment may be lost in the multiplicity of 
sounds ; but this, though it may be harmony, loses the 
name of music, which, when it is not in some degree char- 
acterized by an expression of the passions, deserves no 
better name than that of a musical jargon. It must be at- 
tributed to our neglect of this alone, while our whole atten- 
tion is bestowed on harmony and execution, that the best 
performances of our artists and composers are heard with 
listless indifference and oscitation, nor ever can conciliate 
any admirers, but such as are induced, by pedantry and 
affectation, to pretend what they do not feel. Still may the 
curse of indifference and inattention pursue and harrow 
up the souls of every composer or performer who pretends 
to regale our ears with this musical legerdemain, till the grin 
of scorn or the hiss of infamy teacii them to correct this de- 
pravity of taste, and entertain us with the voice of nature !"t 

* Dictionnaire des Auteurs Class'ques, art Miisique. 
t Encyclop. Britan., art. Music. 



238 SEDENTARY AMUSEMENTS. 

We shull not extend these preliminary observations upon 
the general nature of music, but proceed to give a brief 
sketch of its history in this country. If we may judge by 
the respect and reverence shown to their bards, we may 
*'onclude that the ancient Britons were passionate admirers 
of '-ocal and instrumental music. " Sometimes," says 
Benholinus, " when two armies were standing in order of 
battle, with their swords drawn and their lances extended, 
upon the point of erf jging in , most furious conflict, the 
poets have stepped 'j^ between them, and by their soft and 
fascinating songs calmed the fury of the warriors, and pre- 
vented the bloodshed." The scalds were the poets and 
musicians of all the northern nations ; and upon the estab- 
lishment of the Saxons in Britain, the courts of the kings 
and the residences of the nobility afforded a constant asylum 
to these early minstrels. " In the Anglo-Saxon language 
they were distinguished by two appellations, the one equiva- 
lent to the modern term of gleemen or merrimakers, and 
the other harpers, from the instrument they usually played 
upon. The gleemen added mimicry and other means of 
promoting mirth to their profession, as well as dancing and 
tumbling, with sleights of hand, and variety of deceptions, 
to amuse the spectators."* 

As early as the seventh century it was customary at con- 
vivial meetings to hand a harp from one person to another, 
and every one who partook of the festivity played upon it 
in his turn, singing a song to the music for merriment's 
sake.f It is probable, however, that cultivated music was 
but little known until after the conversion of the Saxons 
to Christianity, when professional missionaries were sent 
from Rome to instruct the converts in the art of singing, 
and particularly to teach the choirs the manner of perform- 
ing the festival service throughout the year, according to 
the practice of Rome. Under the superintendence of these 
precentors, schools were established in various places for 
the instruction of choristers, which accounts for that simi- 
larity and almost identity of melody observable in the 
sacred music of all the countries of Europe, up to the time 
of the Reformation. These masters did not always en- 
counter very docile pupils. John Diaconus, in his life of 

* Strutt's Sports and Pastimes, p. 156. 

t Bede's Eccles. Hist., lib. iv. cap. 24, as quoted by Strutt 



MUSIC MINSTRELS. 239 

St. Gregory, tells us that the ancient Germans and French, 
in attempting to sing the Gregorian chant, " were wholly 
unable to express its sweetness, injuring it by barbarous 
changes, suggested either by their natural ferocity or 
inconstancy of disposition. Their figures were gigantic, 
and when they sang, it was rather thunder than musical 
tones. Their rude throats, instead of the inflections of 
pleasing melody, formed such rough sounds as resembled 
the noise of a cart jolting down a pair of stairs."* It is to 
be hoped that the seminary for ecclesiastical music which 
was subsequently established at Canterbury, and furnished 
instructers to the rest of the island, found more apt and 
pliant scholars. At all events they widely diffused the 
Roman music and singing, which were as much in favour 
with the English during the middle ages, when there were 
neither operas nor artificial voices to captivate our ancestors, 
as they are at the present day. 

Alfred, whose name is always presented to us when re- 
curring to the prevalent accomplishments of the age in 
which he lived, added to his other qualities that of being an 
excellent musician. His being enabled to impose upon the 
Danes, when he entered their camp as a disguised harper, 
is no mean proof of his ability ; while his desire to en- 
courage the art he practised is proved by his having founded 
a professorship at Oxford for its cultivation. 

The celebrated minstrel Taillefer, who came into Eng- 
land with William the Norman, was a warrior as well as a 
musician. He was present at the battle of Hastings, and 
appeared at the head of the conqueror's army, singing the 
songs of Charlemagne and Roland ; but, previously to the 
commencement of the action, he advanced on horseback 
towards the army of the English, and, casting his spear 
three times into the air, caught it as often by the iron head ; 
he then drew his sword, which he also tossed into the air 
as often as he had done his spear, and caught it with such 
dexterity, that those who saw him attributed his manoeuvres 
to the power of enchantment. After he had performed these 
feats, he galloped among the English soldiers, thereby giving 
the Normans the signal of battle ; and in the action, it ap- 
pears, he lost his life."t 

♦ Burgh's Anecdotes of Music, vol. i. p. 155. 
t Strutt's Sports and Pastimes, p. 159. 



240 SEDENTARY AMUSEMENTS. 

Soon after the conquest, these musicians were generally 
called minstrels, a term well known in Normandy some 
time before, where their art, consisting of several branches, 
was divided among different professors, distinguished by 
various denominations. It was at the period of the first 
crusade, in the eleventh century, when Europe was begin- 
ning to emerge from the darkness and barbarism by which it 
had so long been overwhelmed, that the poets and songsters 
known by the name of Troubadours* first appeared in 
Provence, instituting a new profession, which obtained the 
patronage of the Count of Poictou, and many other princes 
and barons, who had themselves cultivated poetry and music : 
war, love, and gallantry being their principal themes, they 
were naturally the delight of the brave and the favourites 
of the fair, because they sang the achievements of the one 
and the beauties of the other; while their compositions, 
being rapidly improved under the joint influence of emula- 
tion and emolument, they introduced and established at 
different courts the Provencal language, and became the 
founders of French song. It has been advanced that the 
troubadours not only effected a revolution in literature, but 
in the human mind, and that, as almost every species of 
Italian poetry is derived from them, so air, the most capti- 
vating part of secular vocal melody, seems to have had the 
same origin : at least that the most ancient strains that 
have been spared by time are such as were set to the songs 
of the troubadours. t They multiplied rapidly, and tins 
swarm of poet-musicians, formerly comprehended in France 
under the general title of jo7ighurs, travelled from province 
to province, singing their verses at the courts of princes, 
and being rewarded with clothes, horses, arms, and money. 

Jongleurs or musicians were often employed to sing the 
compositions of the troubadours, who themselves happened 
to be deficient in voice, or ignorant of music. The term 
iroubadour, therefore, implies poetry as well as music. 
The jongleurs, menestriers, strollers, or minstrels, were 
frequently musicians without any pretensions to poetry. 
Many of the works of these old French poets are yet pre^ 
served. Fauchet has given a list of no less than 127 
mostly song- writers, who flourished before the year 1300 

* Sometimes called Trouveurs, or Inventors. 

* Burney, ii. 233 



MUSIC MINSTRELS. 241 

During the reigns of our Norman kings, the minstrels were 
scarcely less numerous in England than in France. Many 
of our old monkish historians complain of the shoais of them 
which a coronation or royal festival allured to the court. 
The earls also, and great barons, who in their castles emu- 
lated the pomp and state of royalty, did not consider their 
household establishment complete without poets and min- 
strels, itinerant bands of whom were gladly entertained in 
the rich monasteries. 

During the middle ages such large sums were sometimes 
lavished for the maintenance of minstrels, that the public 
treasuries were often drained. Matilda, queen to Henry I., 
after thus wasting the greater part of her revenue, is said 
to have oppressed her tenants in order to procure more. 
Viewing with a jealous eye every act of munificence that 
did not benefit themselves and their monasteries, the monks 
failed not to inveigh loudly against this extravagance, and 
to stigmatize the minstrels, in no very measured terms, as 
j anglers, mimics, buffoons, monsters of men, and con- 
t'^mptible scoffers ; while they censured the nobility for 
encouraging such sordid flatterers, and the populace for 
frequenting performances wliich diverted them from more 
serious pursuits, and only served to corrupt their morals. 
For these reproaches there seems to have been sufficient 
ground in the profligacy and insolence of the parties thus 
inculpated, which contributed more to their final downfall 
than all the interested declamation of their opponents. If 
encouragement produces excellence, these performers ought 
not to have been deficierit in skUl. Froissart, recording an 
entertainment given by the princely Gaston, Earl of Foix, 
says that he bestsowed on the heralds and minstrels the 
sum of five hundred francs ; and to the Duke of Tourayn's 
minstrels gowns of cloth of gold furred with ermine, valued 
at two hundred francs each. In our own country the pro- 
fessors of minstrelsy had the opportunity of amassing much 
wealth. From Domesday-book it appears that Berdic, the 
king's joculator, had lands in Gloucestershire ; Royer, 
Henry I.'s minstrel, founded the hospital and priory of St. 
Bartholomew, in West Smithfield ; and brethren of the 
same order contributed towards building the church of St 
Mary, at Beverly, in Yorkshire, as an inscription on one oi 
the pillars still attests. It must be confessed, however, 
A- 



242 SEDENTARY AMUSEMENTS. 

<>hat their general habits did not dispose them to save 
money, and still less to appropriate it to pious uses. 

In 1315, during the reign of Edward IL, such extensive 
privileges were claimed by the minstrels, and so many dis- 
solute persons assumed that character, that it became 
necessary to restrain them by express laws, which, how- 
ever, made an exception in favour of professional per- 
formers and minstrels of honour ; meaning, probably, those 
retained by the king and the nobility. The same abuses 
and extortions being complained of in little more than a 
century afterward, Edward IV. granted to Walter Haliday, 
marshal, and to seven others of his own minstrels, a charter, 
by which he restored the guild, or fraternity of the minstrels, 
empowering them to admit others, and to govern and punish, 
when necessary, all such as exercised the profession through- 
out the kingdom. 

This institution neither corrected the abuses, nor retrieved 
the reputation of the fraternity, which now suffered a gradual 
decline. In the reign of Queen Elizabeth their credit was 
sunk so low in public estimation, that in an act against 
vagrants, they were included among the rogues, vagabonds, 
and sturdy beggars, and subjected to the like punishments 
— an edict which seems to have given the deathblow to this 
once highly-honoured profession. Public and private bands 
of musicians, however, were for a considerable time after 
this period still called minstrels, without any disparagement ; 
but the term seems to have been limited to instrumental 

{)eTformers, and such as were placed upon a regular estab- 
.ishment. The musicians of the city of London, for 
mstance, were called indifferently waits and minstrels.* 

In Ireland the bards and minstrels had at one time " in- 
ereased so much, and grown so insolent and formidable, 
that it was in a solemn convention of the states resolved to 
feanish them into — Scotland ! This sentence struck such 
a terror into our unruly musicians, as quickly brought them 
to their senses : they implored pardon ; and, upon a promise 
of amendment, were suffered to disperse themselves up and 
down the country."t The poet Spenser describes them, in 
his time, as a most abandoned, corrupt, and desperate set 
of men ; the abettors of robbery, violence, and every other 

* Stow's Survey, p. 84 ; Strutt's Sports and Pastimes, p. 169. 
t Historical Essay on National Song, p. 37. 



MUSIC MINSTRELS. 243 

f rime. From these reproaches we must absolve the more 
lo.odern bard, blind Carolan, the last Irish minstrel, whose 
convivial planxties, composed, it is said, under the im- 
mediate inspiration of whiskey, will long preserve his popu- 
larity among the lovers of the bottle ; while his plaintive 
compositions will ever find admirers in those who have a 
soul for simple and touching melody. Carolan is no more ; 
and of the minstrels who once formed the delight of the 
prince and the peasant, of the kingly hall and the lady's 
bower, we have now, alas ! no better representatives than 
the blind fiddlers wandering about the country, and the 
ballad-singers, who occasionally accompany their ditties 
with instrumental music. 

After the invention of printing — an art which has tended 
to disseminate knowledge with wonderful rapidity among 
mankind — music, and particularly counterpoint, became an 
object of high importance. A more active intercourse be- 
tween the different countries of Europe tended much also to 
the improvement of this science. All the arts, indeed, seem 
to have been the companions, if not the produce, of success- 
ful commerce : they appeared first in Italy, then in the 
Hanseatic towns, next in the Netherlands ; and during 
the sixteenth century, when commerce became general, in 
every part of Europe. At this latter period music was an 
indispensable part of polite education. Professional per- 
formers, both vocal and instrumental, were retained at the 
court, and in the mansions of the nobility ; and the period 
had arrived when the principal materials for scientific com- 
position were prepared, when a regular and extensive scale 
for melody, a code of general laws for harmony, and a 
commodious notation and time-table, supplied the whole 
mechanism of the art. Practical musicians among the laity 
now began to acquire great reputation. An author who 
lived in the time of James I. says, " We have here," — that 
is, in London — "the best musicians in the kingdom, and 
squal to any in Europe for their skill in composing and 
setting of tunes, or singing, and playing upon any kind of 
nstruments." Even our monarchs were proud thus to dis- 
inguish themselves. Henry VIII. not only sang well, but 
Dlayed upon several sorts of instruments, and composed 
songs and the tunes for them; an example which was 



244 SEDENTARY AMUSEMENTS. 

followed by several of the nobility.* There is a collection 
preserved in manuscript, called Queen Elizabeths Virginal 
Book, containing pieces which the best modern master could 
hardly play to the end in less than a month's practice. 
Tallis, singularly profound in musical composition, and 
Bird, his admirable scholar, were two of the authors of this 
famous collection. During the reign of EUzabeth, the 
British musicians were not inferior to any on the conti- 
nent ; an observation scarcely applicable to any other period 
of our history. 

But little of our secular music to the beginning of the 
sixteenth century has been preserved. Of choral composi- 
tions during this century, several are still extant. Henry 
VIII. was the author of two whole masses, besides an an- 
them, preserved in Boyce's collection, and a motet, of which 
the late Dr. Hayes, of Oxford, possessed a genuine copy. 
John Marbeck, organist of Windsor, first set to music in 
1550, the whole English cathedral service ; which, however, 
was mere canto fermo, without counterpoint. It was in the 
reign of Edward VI. that metrical psahnody, as it is still 
employed in our parochial churches, became general in Eng- 
land, by the version of Stemhold and Hopkins. Of th." 
clear and masterly style of Dr. Tye, one of the prin 
cipal composers of this period, a specimen is exhibited ifl 
Dr. Burney's second volume ; and in the Collection of Ca' 
thedral Music, by English Masters, will be found an admi- 
rable anthem of the same composer. All church music, 
however, was about this period in danger of extirpation 
from the zeal of the Reformers against organs and curious 
singing, the puritans justly arguing that the pedantry of 
operose compositions and intricate measures not only ren- 
dered the words, but the music, difficult of comprehension. 
This objection being held reasonable, the council of Trent, 
in 1562, prohibited, among other things, " L'uso delle mu 
siche nelle chiese con mistura di canto, o suono lascivo, tuttf 
le azioni secolari, coUoquie profane, strepiti, gridori." A 
puritan pamphlet, published in 1586, prays, " that all ca- 
thedral churches may be put down where the service of 
God is grievously abused by piping with organs, singing, 
ringing, and howling of psalms from one side of the choir 

* Hall's (Chronicle • 



MUSIC. 245 

to another; with the squeakmg of chanting choristers, 
disguised, as are all the rest, in white surplices ; some is 
corner-caps and silly copes, imitating the fashion and man 
ner of antichrist, the pope, that man of sin, and child of pe^. 
dition, with his other rabble of miscreants and shavelings. *'<» 



CHAPTER XXI. 

Sedentary Amusements. — Music, concluded. 

" When lo ! a harlot form soft sliding by, 
With mincing step — small voice, and languid eye , 
Foreign her air — her robe's discordant pride, 
By singing peers upheld on either side ; 
She tripp'd and laugh'd — too pretty much to stand- 
Cast on the prostrate nine a scornful look — 
Then thus iu quaint recitativo spoke : 
*0 Cara! Cara I silence all that train ; 
Joy to great Chaos ! let division reign : 
But soon, ah ! soon rebellion wrill commence. 
If music meanly borrows aid from sense.' " 

The Dunciad. 

About the end of the reign of James I. a music lectur-^. 
or professorship, was founded in the University of Oxford ; 
but that monarch afforded little other encouragement to tbg 
art. No royal concerts are on record, and secular music 
within the precincts of the court, seems to have been con- 
fined to the masks performed for the amusement of his 
majesty, in which songs and symphonies were occasionally 
introduced. Anthems, masks, madrigals, songs, and 
catches comprised at this time the whole of our music for 
the church, the stage, and the chamber ; and the instru- 
mental productions were chiefly composed for lutes and 
vio Is. These being now entirely laid aside, we could scarcely 
do them justice, even had they been replete with genius and 
earning, which is by no means the case, their general char- 
«tcter being that of an artless insipidity. The musical wr- 
rs and composers of the seventeenth century who acquired 

* Neal's History of the Puritans, p. 290 and 480. 
X2 



246 SEDENTARY AMUSEMENTS. 

the greatest fame were, Orlando Gibbons, Pelha.ri Hum- 
phrey, and Henry Purcell, who far excelled all their com- 
petitors. " The purists,^'' says Burney, wheA spe£,king of 
Gibbons, " on account of the confusion arising from all the 
parts singing dijfferent words at the same time, pronounce 
the style in which his full anthems are composed to be 
vicious ; yet the admirers of fugue, ingenious contrivance, 
and rich, simple, and pleasing harmony, must regard them 
as exquisite productions, alia Palestrina, a style in which 
Tallis and Bird acquired so much renown." Of Purcell we 
shall presently speak more fully. 

Instrumental music was little cultivated in this reign. 
The words concerto and sonata do not appear to have been 
then known even in Italy, nor did they come into common 
use till late in the seventeenth century. Madrigals, which 
were then almost the only secular compositions in parts, 
were supplanted by a passion for fantasias of three, four, 
five, and six parts, wholly composed for viols and other in- 
struments, without the assistance of singers. Thus vocal 
music not only lost her independency, but was almost totally 
driven out of society ; as the ancient Britons, calling in the 
Saxons to support them, were themselves subdued by their 
own auxiliaries. Notwithstanding their title of fantasias, 
the style of these pieces would now appear very dry and 
fanciless, not to say contemptible. All the instrumental 
mUsic, indeed, of this period, with the single exception of 
the fugues of Frescobaldi, and the compositions for the 
organ, is dry, difficult, unaccented, and insipid.* 

Of the masks which were in fashion at the court of 
Charles I., the excellence consisted rather in the quaintness 
of the device, the magnificence of the scenery, and the splen- 
did constructions of the theatre, than in the music. Ben 
Jonson wasted his talent upon these trifling interludes, 
while Inigo Jones was condemned to exercise his luxuriant 
architectural taste upon no better materials than pasteboard 
and canvass. To this fashion, however, we owe those 
beautiful compositions, the Faithftil Shepherdess of Fletcher, 
and the Comus of Milton, of which latter Henry Lawes, 
the friend of the author, composed the music. 

Prior to the year 1600 we had few other compositions 

* Burgh's Anecdotes of Music, ii. 116. 



MUSIC. 247 

than masses and madrigals, the two principal divisions of 
sacred and secular music ; but from that time dramatic musio 
became the chief object of attention, preparing a revolution 
as to melody and expression even in sacred productions. 
Melodies now began to be preferred to pieces of many 
parts ; in which canons, fugues, and foil harmony had chiefly 
employed the master's study, and the hearer's attention. 
Our hasty retrospect has hitherto fomished nothing so impor- 
tant to the progress of the art as the invention of recitative, 
or dramatic melody, which belongs to this era. No musical 
dramas similar to those afterward known by the names of 
Opera and Oratorio had existed in Italy before the begin- 
ning of the seventeenth century ; and although the stilo 
recitativo, first mentioned by Ben Jonson in 1617, was oc- 
casionally introduced upon the English stage in masks, 
plays, and cantatas, no regular drama wholly set to music 
was attempted, until in 1658 Sir William Davenant pro- 
duced the first opera ever performed in this country. Other 
entertainments of the same sort were exhibited with a pro- 
fuse decoration of scenery and dresses, rendered still more 
attractive by the best singers and dancers that could be pro- 
cured. Of these musical dramas the language was always 
English, until the latter end of the seventeenth century, 
when Italian singing began to be encouraged, and vocal as 
well as instrumental performers from that country were 
introduced upon our boards. The first English musical 
drama performed wholly after the Italian manner in recita- 
tive for the dialogue and narrative, and measured melody 
for the airs, was Arsinoe, Queen of Cyprus, brought out at 
Drury-lane in 1705. Such is the charm of novelty, that 
although this miserable performance deserved neither the 
name of a drama by its poetry, nor of an opera by its music, 
it proved successfiil. The first opera performed wholly 
in Italian, and by Italian singers, was Alrbaide, produced 
in 1710. 

In all things, and particularly in music, the taste of 
Charles II. was that of a Frenchman. He had French 
operas ; a band of twenty-four violins in imitation of that 
at Paris ; and French masters to instruct some of them in 
London, while others were sent to Paris for tuition ; where, 
however, it must be confessed, that musical science, as wefe 
as every other liberal art, was then better understood than 



248 SEDENTARY AMUSEMENTS. 

in England. Banister, the leader of his band, was the first 
musician who established lucrative concerts in London. 
Perceiving the eagerness of the public for these perform- 
ances, the principal masters fitted up a concert-room in York- 
buildings, where the best compositions and performers, under 
the title of The Music Meeting, continued for upwards of 
half a century to receive the patronage of the most distin 
guished audiences. It was in this reign that Henry Pur- 
cell, rising rapidly to distinction, became the darling and the 
delight of the nation, so far surpassing, both in vocal and 
instrumental music, whatever our country had previously 
produced or imported, that all his competitors seem to have 
been instantly consigned to contempt a\id oblivion. Nor 
was any other vocal music listened to with pleasure until 
nearly thirty years after his death, when ne began to suffer 
the eclipse to which he had condemned his predecessors, 
and his compositions gave way to the favourite opera songs 
of Handel. 

The fame of this last-mentioned musiciau having preceded 
his arrival in 1710, Aaron Hill, then in the direction of the 
Haymarket theatre, instantly applied to him to compose the 
opera of Rinaldo, the admirable music of which he entirely 
produced within a fortnight. Other works rapidly followed, 
but the public taste for musical dramas in Italian was now 
upon the wane, and the opera entertainments being founo 
unprofitable were entirely suspended from 1717 to 1720 
when a fund of 50,000Z, for supporting and carrying them 
on was subscribed by the first personages in the kingdom, 
formed into a society named " The Royal Academy of 
Music," by whom Handel was commissioned to engage 
operatic performers. At the close of the first season it 
appeared that the united eiforts of the greatest composers 
and completest band of singers ever collected in this coun- 
try, although patronised by the king and all the principal 
nobility, had not indemnified the directors for the expenses 
of the undertaking. Thus we find, that from the first estab- 
lishment of the regular Italian opera in this country it has 
proved a ruinous speculation to the managers. 

In the year 1723 the celebrated Francesco Cuzzoni ap- 
peared as a first-rate singer, and two years afterward her 
distinguished rival Faustina Bordoni, both fif ^I'hom intro- 
duced changes in the style of operatic singing.:; by running 



MUSIC. 249 

divisions with neatness and velocity, as well as by sustain- 
ing, diminishing, or increasing the tones in a manner pre 
'.aously unpractised. So signally did these two performers 
engage the attention of the public, that parties were formed 
by their respective abettors almost as violent and inveterate 
as any that had been produced by theological or poUtical 
differences ; yet so distinct were their styles of singing, 
so different their talents, that the praise of one was no dis- 
paragement of the other. 

Oratorios were common in Italy during the seventeenth 
century, but in England they were never publicly attempted 
till the year 1732, when Handel, stimulated by the rival- 
ehip of other adventurers, exhibited his oratorios of Esther, 
and of Acis and Galatea ; the last of which he had composed 
twelve years before for the Duke of Chandos's chapel at 
Canons. But this great composer had not only to struggle 
against professional opposition. The nobility and gentry, 
offended at the advanced price for admission to the orato- 
rios on opera nights, opened a subscription for the per- 
formance of Italian operas at Lincoln's-Inn-fields, inviting 
the celebrated Porpora to compose and conduct it, and en- 
gaging among other distinguished perfonners the match- 
less Farinelli. The first effect which the surprising talents 
of this most celebrated singer produced upon an English 
audience were ecstasy, rapture, enchantment. The first 
note he sang was taken with such delicacy, swelled by 
minute degrees to such an amazing volume, and afterward 
diminished in the same manner to a mere point, that it was 
applauded for full five minutes. After this he set off with 
such brilliancy and rapidity of execution, that it was diffi- 
cult for the violins of those days to keep pace with him. 
In short, in comparison with all other singers he was as 
superior as the famous horse Childers to all other racers. 
But it was not in speed alone that he excelled, for he united 
every perfection of every celebrated singer, and his voice 
was equally unrivalled in strength, sweetness, and compass, 
in the expression of tenderness, grace, and rapidity.* It is 
well known that this extraordinary singer and amiable man 
resided for nearly twenty years at the court of Madrid, 
where his favour increased to such a degree that he was 

* Burgh's Anecdotes, vol. iii. p. 89. 



250 SEDENTARY AMUSEMENTS. 

regarded as prime minister, and yet made no enemies, and 
was never reproached with having abused his good fortune. 

Two theatres for the performance of operas were now 
open, and both supported by composers and performers of 
great eminence ; but the opposition, after having been 
maintained for some time with great spirit, ended in the ruin 
of all the parties engaged in it. It is in vain, however, to 
attribute this result to faction or enmity to Handel. The 
fact is, that the rage for these entertainments had greatly 
abated in our country, in spite of good composition and 
exquisite performance. An Englishman tires of dainties 
sooner than of common food, to which he returns with 
pleasure after excess. The public curiosity being satisfied, 
the whole nation regaled with eagerness and content upon 
the Beggar's Opera, and ballad farces on the same plan. 
Handel, having lost great part of his fortune by the opera, 
was under the necessity of appealing to the public gratitude 
in a benefit, which, for the honour of the nation, was so 
fully attended that he cleared 800Z. His coadjutor, Heideg- 
ger, opened an opera subscription for the ensuing season, 
but it was found necessary to abandon the undertaking, 
and the King's theatre, in the Haymarket, was shut up for 
some years. It was about this time that the statue of 
Handel was erected in Vauxhall, at the expense of Mr. 
Tyers, the proprietor of those gardens. 

In 1745, in consequence of the rebellion in Scotland and 
the popular prejudice against the performer*^ who were 
mostly Roman Catholics, the opera-house was shut. Next 
year it opened with an opera hj Gluck, then a v« ry young 
composer, and new dances by Auretti and the charming Vio- 
letta,* which, we are told, were more admired than the 
music. In the autumn of this year, serious operas being 
discontinued, a new company of comic singers was imported 
from Italy for the first time. Four years afterward the 
arrival of Giardini formed a memorable epoch in the instru- 
mental music of this kingdom, his powers on the violin 
never having been equalled. When at his first public per- 
formance he played a solo of Martini's composition, the 
applause was so long and loud that Dr. Bumey, who was 
present, says he had never heard such hearty and un« 

* Afterward Mrs. Garrick, and only recently deceased. 



MUSIC. 251 

equivocal marks of approbation. In this year Signor Croza, 
the manager of the opera, ran away, leaving the per 
formers and innumerable tradespeople his creditors ; an 
event which for some time put a period to operas of every 
description. 

The arrival of Giovanni ManzoK, in 1764, marked a 
splendid era in the annals of dramatic music, by conferring 
on serious opera a degree of favour which it had seldom 
attained since its first establishment in this country 
" Manzoli's voice," says Dr. Burney, " was the most 
powerful and voluminous soprano that had ever been heard 
on our stage since the time of Farinelli ; and his manner 
of singing was grand and full of dignity. The applause he 
received was a universal thunder of acclamation." Ten- 
ducci, returning at this time from the continent, and much 
improved, filled the station of second to Manzoli. Dr. Arne 
was employed to compose for these distinguished vocalists, 
but he was out of his element in an Italian opera, and his 
attempt was considered a decided failure. 

Gaetano Guadagni created a great sensation in the mu- 
sical world in the year 1769. His figure was uncommonly 
elegant and noble ; his countenance replete with beauty, 
intelligence, and dignity ; and his attitudes and gestures 
so graceful that they would have been excellent studies for 
a painter or a statuary. The music he sang was the most 
simple imaginable ; a few notes with fi*equent pauses and 
opportunities of being liberated from the composer and the 
band were all he required. In these seemingly extempora- 
neous effusions he proved the inherent power of melody, 
totally divorced from harmony, and unassisted even by 
unisonous accompaniment. The pleasure he communi- 
cated proceeded chiefly from his artful manner of diminish- 
ing the tones of his voice, like the dying notes of the ^Eolian 
harp. Other singers captivated by a swell, but Guadagni, 
after beginning a note or passage with all the force he could 
safely exert, fined it off to a thread, and gave it the entire 
effect of extreme distance. 

It was about the period of which we are now writing 
that dancing seemed to gain the ascendant over music, by 
the superior talent of Mademoiselle Heinel, whose grace 
and execution were so perfect as to eclipse all other excel- 
lence. "From tliis time to the present hour dancing 



252 SEDENTARY AMUSEMENTS. 

appears to have encroached upon music, and instead of being 
a dependant or auxiliary has constantly been aiming at the 
sovereignty of the opera-house. In the early musical 
dramas poetry seems to have been the most important per- 
sonage. About the middle of the seventeenth century 
machinery and decoration took the lead, and diminished the 
consequence both of music and poetry. As the arts of 
singing and dramatic composition improved, music gained 
the ascendency over both decoration and poetry, until the 
judgment of Apostolo Zeno and the genius of Metastasio 
exalted the lyric muse far above her former level. Dancing 
now threatened to annihilate the former three. After the 
departure of Mademoiselle Heinel, Vestris le Jeune and 
Mademoiselle Baccelli were the favourite dancers, till the 
arrival of the elder Vestris, when pleasure was sublimed 
into ecstasy. 

"In the year 1781, the celebrated Pacchierotti had been 
heard so often that his singing was no impediment to 
conversation ; but while the elder Vestris was on the stage, 
if, during a pas seul, any of his admirers forgot themselves 
so far as to applaud him with their hands, there was an 
instant check upon his rapture by a choral hush ! Those 
lovers of music who talked the loudest while Pacchierotti 
was singing a pathetic air, or making an exquisite close, 
were now thrown into agonies of displeasure, lest the 
graceful movements du dieu de la danse should be disturbed 
by audible approbation. Since that time the most minute 
and respectftil attention has been given to the manly grace 
of Le Picq and the light fantastic toe of the younger 
Vestris ; to the Rossis, the Theodores, the Coulons, the 
Hilligsburgs, and a long train of still more modem pro- 
fessors ; while the poor singers have usually been disturbed, 
not by the violence of applause, but by the clamour of 
inattention."* 

Some of the most distinguished patrons of music, having 
remarked that the number of eminent professors, both vocal 
and instrumental, with which London abounded exceeded 
that of any other city of Europe, lamented that there was 
no public periodical occasion for consolidating them into 
one band} on such a grand and magnificent scale as no 

* Burgh's Anecdotes, vol. iii. p. 193. 



MUSIC. 253 

other part of the world could equal. It occurred to these 
gentlemen, who were all enthusiastic admirers of Handel, 
that the next year (1784) would be a proper time for some 
such institution, since it formed a complete century since 
his birth, and an exact quarter of a century since his de- 
cease. Such was the origin of the commemoration of 
Handel, which was first celebrated in Westminster Abbey, 
w^here the remains of that great musician were deposited. 

The architectural arrangements for the reception of their 
majesties and the first personages in the kingdom at the 
east end, for upwards of five hundred musicians in the 
orchestra, and for nearly four thousand persons in the area 
and galleries, being all in perfect harmony with the vene- 
rable style of the abbey, added incalculably to the efiect, and 
constituted altogether the grandest and most magnificent 
spectacle that the imagination can conceive. The choral 
bands were placed on steps in the side aisles, gradually 
ascending beyond the sight of the audience. The principal 
singers were ranged in front of the orchestra as at oratorios, 
accompanied by the choirs of St. Paul, the Abbey, Windsor, 
and the Chapel Royal. 

Without even a Coryphseus to beat time, the performance 
was not less remarkable for the multiplicity of voices and 
instruments employed, than for accuracy and precision. 
The united harmony and power of this stupendous band, 
combined with the solemnity of the occasion, and the august 
character of the sacred building, might well be termed 
sublime in their effect, awakening new and exquisite sensa- 
tions in the lovers of the art, and even electrifying those who 
had never before received pleasure from musical sounds. 
In 1785, the band, vocal and instrumental, amounted to 
616 ; in 1786, to 741 ; in 1787, to 806 : and in subsequent 
years to still greater numbers. The members. and guardians 
of the musical fund, enlarged by these commemorations of 
Handel, are now incorporated under the title of " Royal 
Society of Musicians." 

The first memorable occurrence at the King's Theatre, 
in the year 1788, was the exhibition of a new dance by the 
celebrated M. Noverre, called Cupid and Psyche, which so 
enraptured the spectators, that Noverre was unanimously 
called for to receive on the stage the honours due to his 
talents. He was led forward by Vestris and Hilligsburg, 



254 SEDENTARY AMUSEMENTS. 

and crowned with laurel by them, the other principal 
dancers, and all the Jiguranti who had been employed. 
This, though common in France, was unprecedented in 
England. 

Of these times the most eminent Italian singers were 
Pacchierotti, Rubinelli, and Marchesi. In discriminating 
their several excellences. Dr. Burney has particr' Ay 
praised the sweet and touching voice of Pacchierotti, ^ 
fine shake, his exquisite taste, his great fancy, and his 
divine expression in pathetic songs : of Rubinelli's voice, 
the fulness, steadiness, and majesty, the accuracy of his 
intonations, his judicious graces : of Marchesi's voice, the 
elegance and flexibility, his grandeur in recitative, and his 
inexhaustible fancy in embellishments. 

The opera management of Sir John Gallini, who had 
associated himself with Mr. Taylor, was unpropitious, and 
terminated calamitously. On the ISth of June, 1789, afire 
broke out while the dancers were practising a new ballet, 
and the whole of this superb edifice, which had been erected 
by Sir John Vanbrugh, and first opened in 1705, was, in 
less than two hours, utterly destroyed. A new and splendid 
theatre rose from its ruins, which, after some delay from 
legal difficulties, was at length first opened as an Italian 
Opera-house on the 26th of January, 1793. Maclame 
Banti made her debut at this house in the spring of the 
following season, and was received with an enthusiasm due 
to her admirable acting, perfect intonation, and great power 
of expression, which enabled her not only to delight the 
ear, but to penetrate the heart. In the place of this fasci- 
nating singer, Mrs. Billington appeared as prima donna in 
the year 1802. Three seasons afterward the public were 
not only pleased but astonished by the powers of Madame 
Grassini, especially when it was knovni that the compass 
of her voice did not exceed eight or ten notes. The admi- 
ration she excited was in the following year divided with 
the celebrated Catalani, who first appeared in the character 
of Semiramide, and amazed as well as fascinated the audi- 
ence by her almost supernatural performances. As an 
actress equally eminent in the tragic and comic scene, she 
has never been surpassed, perhaps never equalled, on the 
opera stage. Her voice transcends all that had been sup- 
posed j)ossible in the . human organ, combining with it« 



PLAYING-CARDS. 255 

flexibility and clearness such an unrivalled volume, that it 
can penetrate through the loudest chorus and most complete 
band in the kingdom. We forbear from recapitulating the 
vocal performers who have succeeded her, or from enlarging 
upon the state of music in England subsequently to her 
departure, since both these subjects must be familiar to the 
majority of our readers. Nor is it our purpose to discuss 
the theory of music as an art. Our little work professes to 
be rather superficial and amusing, than profound and scien- 
tific. The professor and connoisseur will have recourse to 
disquisitions much more minute than those which our narrow 
limits can be supposed to admit.* 



CHAPTER XXII. 

Sedentary Amusements : — Playing-cards 

" Behold four kings in majesty revered, 
With hoary'whiskers and a forked beard ; 
And four fair queens, whose hands sustain a flower, 
Th' expressive emblem of their softer power : 
Four knaves in garbs succinct, a trusty band, 
Caps on their heads, and halberts in their hand ; 
And party-coloured troops, a shining train, 
Drawn forth to combat on the velvet plain." 

Rape of the Lock, canto 3. 

"A GRAVE elderly gentleman," says the facetious Mr. 
Joseph Mills, " having once observed to a female relative, 
who was an indefatigable whist-player, that there was a 
great deal of time lost at cards, the lady replied, with infinite 
7iawet6, ' what ! in shuffling and cutting 1 Ay, so there is, 
but how can we avoid it V " This anecdote occurred 
involuntarily to the writer, when he recollected that he was 
no practitioner in any of the various and profound arts 
emanating from fifty-two quadrangular pieces of stamped 
pasteboard ; that he had elsewhere, writing, perhaps, with- 

* Sir John'Hawkins's General History of Music, 5, vols. 4to. and Dr. 
Burney's work on the same subject, are the most full and complete. De 
Burgh's Anecdotes are principally compiled from these sources, but being 
in narrower compass, 3 vols Svo. they offer a greater facility of reference 



256 SEDENTARY AMUSEMENTS. 

out due consideration of the subject, expressed a coinci- 
dence in opinion with the grave elderly gentleman afore- 
said ; and _ that he was nevertheless about to conunit the 
very offence against which he had inveighed, by giving up 
a portion of his time to cards. He has no defence to offer, 
nor is he aware that any is required. Cards, when not 
indulged to excess, or made the instruments of gambling, 
are an innocent and in many instances, a beneficial recrea- 
tion ; they have engaged no small portion of human time 
and attention, and offer therefore an excusable, and by no 
means uninteresting subject of inquiry. That they have 
afforded scope for much deep investigation, profound 
learning, and ingenious hypothesis, must be manifest to any 
one who has consulted the elaborate and handsomely illus- 
trated quarto of Mr. Samuel Weller Singer,* which, being 
by far the most curious and comprehensive work upon the 
subject, has chiefly supplied us with materials for the 
ensuing summary. 

The commonly received opinion that cards were invented 
in France, about the close of the fourteenth century, for 
the amusement of Charles VI., while he was afflicted with 
mental derangement, is proved to be erroneous, their ex- 
istence being traced to a much earlier period. Mention is 
made of them in the Aimals of Provence, about the year 
1361, when it appears that the knave (valet) was desig- 
nated by the name of Tuchim, an appellation bestowed upon 
a formidable band of robbers who were then ravaging the 
Comtat Venaissin ; and a recent discovery in a MS. be- 
longing to M. Lancelot, shows that they were known 
twenty years earlier. It appears that the Germans became 
acquainted with them about the same time as the French. 
That they originated with the latter nation has been 
inferred from the fleur-de-lis being found in every court- 
card : but these are likewise found among the ornaments 
of the Romans, at a remote period ; on the sceptres and 
crowns of the emperors of the west, in the middle ages, and 
on those of the kings of England before the Nonnan con- 
quest. The earliest cards, moreover, of which specimens 
are extant do not bear this mark of French origin. 

* Researches into the History of Playing-cards ; with illustrations ot 
the Origin of Engraving and Printing on Wood. 4to. London, 1816. Of 
this work only two hundred and fifty copies were printed. 



PLAYING-CARDS. 257 

Spain has found a champion for her claims to the honour 
of this invention in the Abb6 Rive ; and it is certain that 
a prohibitory edict against the usage of cards was pubHshed 
by John I., King of Castile, in 1387. In favour of the 
Spaniards, it is urged that their language has supplied the 
names of some of the cards, and of many of the most 
ancient games, such as primero, and the principal card in 
the game, quinola ; ombre, and the cards spadille, manille, 
basto, punto, matador, quadrille, &c. The suit of clubs upon 
the Spanish cards is not the trefoil, as with us, but positively 
clubs or cudgels, of which we retain the name, though we 
have lost the figure : the original name is bastos. The 
spades are swords, called in Spain espadas ; in which 
instance we retain the name, and some faint resemblance 
of the figure. These being proofs of early adoption rather 
than invention, it has been surmised that the Spaniards 
derived their knowledge of cards immediately from their 
Moorish invaders ; especially as the name bestowed upon 
them in the Spanish language seems to be Arabic. At that 
time the Moors were an enlightened people, compared with 
the inhabitants of Europe ; and as it is acknowledged that 
we are indebted to them for the dawn of science and letters, 
and certainly for the game of chess, why may not playing- 
cards have proceeded from the same source 1 

The romances of the eleventh, twelfth, thirteenth, and 
fourteenth centuries, although they record the manners and 
amusements of those times with great minuteness, make 
no mention of cards ; whence we may fairly conclude that 
they were then unknown in Europe, while there appear 
such striking analogies between the game of chess and 
cards in their first simple form, that it is not unreasonable 
to deduce them both from the same eastern source. In the 
early cards we have the king, knight, and knave, and the 
numerical cards, or common soldiers. The oriental game 
of chess has also its king, vizier, and horseman, and its 
pauns, or common soldiers ; but the parties at cards are 
doubled ; there are four instead of two of each, which is 
the only variation. There were only thirty- six cards in 
the original eastern pack ; the more complicated one was 
undoubtedly of later invention. 

Perhaps the English derived their first knowledge of 
cards from the crusaders, rather than from their continental 
Y3 



^58 SEDENTARY AMUSEMENTS. 

Neighbours. That they were m use some time previously 
to 1464 cannot be doubted ; for in the parliament-rolls of 
that year they are mentioned among other articles which 
are not to be imported. Had Vaey been introduced pre- 
viously to the year 1400, when Chaucer died, he would 
probably have referred to them ; yet in speaking of amuse- 
ments, he only says — " They dancen, and they play at ches 
and tables." We have, in fact, very few allusions to this 
diversion until after the year 1500 ; but it must have been 
common in the reign of Henry VH., among whose private 
expenses money for losses at cards appears to have been 
several times issued. 

Although we cannot assent to the common opinion that 
cards were invented by the French in the fourteenth century, 
it should seem that about this time the figures and suits 
underwent a change, possibly in France, and that their 
present forms were then first adopted. According to an 
explanation which has been given of the figures, the queen 
of spades, which in the early French cards is named Pallas, 
was meant to represent Joan of Arc, the Maid of Orleans ; 
the king of spades (pique) bears the name of David ; that 
of clubs (trefle), the name of Alexander ; that of hearts 
(coeurs), Charlemagne ; and that of diamonds (carreaux), 
Casar. The knave of spades is called Ogier ; that of clubs, 
Lau7icelot; that of hearts, La Hire; and that of diamonds, 
Hector. The queens of spades, clubs, hearts, and diamonds 
are respectively named Pallas, Argine, Judic, and Rachel. 

Every game may be considered a species of combat, par- 
ticularly that of cards, and we find accordingly that four 
warlike monarchs were chosen for the kings ; the knaves 
{valets) were symbolical of the vassals of feudal times, in 
whom consisted the principal strength of the state ; the 
other cards refer to the residue of the people of whom the 
armies w^ere composed. The queen appears to have been 
introduced by the gallantry of the French. The games of 
ombre and quadrille, w^hich seem by their nature to have 
taken their rise in a chivalric age, are of Spanish origin, 
and still continue to be favourites with the people of the 
Peninsula. The pack with which they are played, consists, 
like the German one, of forty-eight cards only, the tens 
in the former and the aces in the latter being omitted. 
Their suits, similar to those of the Italians, are what have 



PLAYING-CARDS. 259 

been called the frappola suits, presumed to be of eastern 
origin. 

In Germany the suits of cards were at an early period 
termed schellcn, bells ; hertzen, hearts ; griln, green ; and 
eichebi, acorns ; devices for which other objects were some- 
times substituted, such as the human figure, animals, birds, 
plants, fruits, and flowers. Like other nations they subse- 
quently invented games of their own : landsknecht or lans- 
quenet is the oldest German game. Its name, which 
signifies a particular description of foot-soldier, intimates 
that it was invented, or at least first played, by the military, 
possibly at the commencement of the war in the Nether- 
lands under Maximilian I., about the year 1494, when a 
body of the landsknechte were enrolled in the service of the 
emperor. 

The European change in the suits has been explained, 
on the supposition that the original eastern cards repre- 
sented allegorically the orders or ranks of society, and that 
the Europeans in their figures had the same object in view. 
Thus the suits in the Italian and Spanish cards have been 
said to signif}'-, by spade or swords, the nobility ; cappe^ 
caps or chalices, the clergy ; denari, money, the citizens ; 
bastoni, clubs or sticks, the peasantry. Illustrating the 
French suits in the same manner, ^n'^'Me, intended for the 
point of a lance or pike, used by the knights, would signify 
the first order, or nobles : cozur, hearts (sounding like choeur, 
a choir), denoted the clergy : trefle, clover or trefoil, applied 
to the husbandmen, who formed the middle class of the 
community, when commerce and manufactures were little 
known : carreaic, the end or head of an arrow, represented 
the vassals, from among whom the common soldiers or 
archers were taken. Interpreting in the same symboHcal 
manner the German suits, we find that schellen, little bells, 
were anciently the ornaments of princely dresses ; and that 
great personages, as a mark of their quality, generally 
carried a hawk, to who^e legs bells were attached. These, 
therefore, are used as a type of that order of society. 
Hearts denote the clergy, as in the French cards ; green, or 
leaves, has the same relation to the husbandman as trefle ; 
and acorns, or oak, symbolize the woodman, peasants, and 
slaves. The analogy appears striking, and the deductions 
are ingenious ; but whether aiLv such allegory was intended 



260 SEDENTARY AMUSEMENTS. 

by the inventors of cards must ever remain a matter of 
doubt. 

Our English names of the suits are in part adopted from 
the Spanish, and partly from the French ; yet it is singular 
that the suits themselves are altogether those of the latter 
nation. To the trefle, or trefoil leaf, we have applied the 
Spanish term bastos, translating it literally into clubs. Nor 
have we faithfully rendered the French word carreaux by 
diamonds. The figured or court-cards were formerly called 
coat-cards ; and Strutt says, " I conceive the name implied 
coated figures, that is, men and women, who wore coats, in 
contradistinction to the other devices of flowers and animals, 
not of the human species." 

A modern writer has expressed his surprise that no im- 
provement has taken place in the figures on cards. Had he 
been acquainted with the beautiful figured cards produced 
in Germany nearly three centuries ago, of some of which 
specimens are given in Mr. Singer's elaborate work, it 
would have increased his surprise that we should have 
remained content with the grotesque and unmeaning im- 
pressions upon ours, when such admirable examples had 
been held out to us by our neighbours. But even the 
German cards have now degenerated into the same kind of 
rudeness, all recent attempts at introducing better designs 
having failed both there and in France. Some ingenious 
card-makers in England have lately endeavoured to intro- 
duce improved specimens, both as to drawing and colouring ; 
but such is the force of habit, that although the attempt 
has been applauded, and the cards admired, they have been 
purchased rather as curiosities than for use, and the old 
barbarous daubings have maintained their ground. 

It has been a question whence the grotesque figures on 
modern court-cards could have been derived ; they bear, no 
distant resemblance to some of the representations among 
the Chinese, whose cards are charged with similar designs ; 
but it is impossible to determine where and by whom they 
were first adopted. Perhaps we ought to seek no fiirther 
than the rude woodcuts of the fourteenth and fifteenth cen- 
turies, many of which are as unlike the human figure as 
are the singular objects depicted on our cards. 

Let it not be supposed that cards have never been applied 
to higher purposes than those of amusement. At different 



PLAYING-CARDS. 261 

periods they have been extensively, and, as we are told, 
not unsuccessfully used as a means of instruction. The 
first who sought to make them subservient to this object 
was Thomas Murner, a learned Minorite friar of the six- 
teenth century, who, being engaged in teaching philosophy 
at Friburg, perceived that his young pupils were disgusted 
with the formalities of a logical treatise, placed in their 
hands to teach them the terms of dialectic science. 

He imagined, in consequence, a new mode of exciting 
their attention to this dry and repulsive study, by adapting 
it to a pleasing recreation in the form of a game of cards, 
which proved so successful, that the extraordinary progress 
of his scholars caused him to be suspected for a magician ; 
and in order to justify himself he was obliged to disclose to 
the rectors of the university the means by which he had 
effected such wonders. This game was composed of fifty- 
two cards, on which were depicted bells, crabs, fish, acorns, 
scorpions, turbans, hearts, swallows, suns, stars, pigeons, 
crescents, cats, shields, crowns, and serpents ; but in' what 
manner these objects were applied to the inculcation of 
logical rules and dialectic terms we shall not attempt to 
describe ; as we doubt whether the most profound logician 
of the present day would be able to comprehend it. It 
appears to have been a scheme of artificial memory applied 
to this particular science. We have in our own times more 
than one practical system of mnemonics, or reminiscentia 
numeralis, wherein numbers and various unmeaning objects 
are used for the purpose of giving a kind of locality to ideas, 
upon the principle of association. Erasmus, in one of his 
dialogues,* has ridiculed these royal roads to the sciences, 
and seems to have had in view the then recent system of 
Murner, whose success gave rise, at a subsequent period, to 
numerous imitations and extensions of his discovery, which 
was applied not only to those studies that merely require 
sight and memory, such as geography, chronology, mythol- 
ogy, history, and others ; but also to those which demand 

* Ars Notoria. Erasmi Colloquta, p. 569. " Erasm. Audio artem 
esse quamdam notoriam, quae heec preestet, ut Homo, minimo negotio, 
perdiscatomnesdisciplinasliberales. Dis : Quid audio? vidisti codicem ^ 
Erasm: varias animantium formas, draconum, leonum, leopardorumj 
yariosque circulos, et in his descriptas voces, partim Gracas, partim 
Latmas ahasque Barbaricarum linguarum. Dis : Ego aUam artem non 
novi quAm curam, amorein, et assiduitatem." 



262 SEDENTARY AMUSEMENTS. 

thought and reasoning, such as logic and jurisprudence. 
In the commencement of the seventeenth century an aston- 
ishing number of games was published upon the model of 
Murner's, and there is scarcely a branch of juvenile educa- 
tion which has not been thus treated in our own days. 

M. De Brianville published a set of heraldic cards at 
Lyons, in 1660, and, as he composed his game of the arms 
of the sovereign princes of the north, of Italy, Spain, and 
France, some of the arms were necessarily distributed on 
the knaves, which gave such umbrage to the parties thus 
scurvily treated, that the unlucky inventor of the game was 
prosecuted, his plates were seized by the magistrates, and 
he was obliged to conciliate favour by converting his knaves 
into princes and knights. A treatise on morals, discipline, 
and conversation, in the form of a game at cards, is referred 
to by E chard, as existing among the imperial MSS. at 
Vienna, but he does not mention the date of it. Packs of 
cards, or rather sets of prints, are extant, intended as satires 
upon the Spanish invasion, the Catholic James and his 
queen, the South Sea bubble ; and other subjects. Sir 
John Harrington, in his " Apologie for Poetry," makes 
mention also of a play, in which the game of cards seems 
to have been allegorized. — " Or to speake of a London 
comedie, how much good matter, yea, and matter of state, 
is there in that comedie called the Play of the Cards ? In 
which it is showed how foure parasiticall knaves robbe the 
foure principal vocations of the realme, videlicet — the voca- 
tion of souldiers, "schollers, marchants, and husbandmen." 
It is evident that the notion of the four suits being intended 
to represent the four casts or orders of society, had obtained 
ground in England at this early period. 

We have already stated that cards, like most other games, 
have a martial character, the queen being a comparatively 
modern introduction of the French, and the pack consist- 
ing originally of kings, knights, squires, and common sol- 
diers. Ombre, quadrille, and lansquenet, bear marks of 
their military origin ; and in the seventeenth century a game 
was commonly played in France, called " Le Jeu de la 
Guerre," consisting of a piquet pack, with the addition of 
four other cards, called strength, death, the general, and the 
prisoner of war. Upon the ace of spades was represented 
a cannonier ; upon that of clubs a soldier with a drawn 



PLAYING-CARDS. 263 

'sword, designating the infantry ; upon that of diamonds, a 
battalion ; and the ace of hearts represented the cavalry. 
It was more a game of chance than skill ; in which respect, 
perhaps, the inventor thought that it bore a closer resem- 
blance to war. 

j Primero, prime, and primavista are one and the same 
game, the popularity of which during the reign of Eliza- 
beth is apparent from the frequent mention of it in the 
writers of that time. Shakspeare speaks of Henry VIII. 
playing at primero with the Duke of Suffolk, and makes 
Falstaff exclaim, " I never prospered since I forswore my- 
self at primero." That it was the court game is evidenced 
in a very curious picture described by Mr. Barnngton, in 
the Archaeologia, which represents Lord Burleigh playing 
at this pastime with three other noblemen. Primero con- 
tinued to be the most fashionable game throughout the 
reigns of Henry VIIL, Edward VI., Mary, Elizabeth, and 
James. In the Earl of Northumberland's letters about the 
powder-plot, we find that Josceline Percy was playing at 
prbnero on Sunday, when his uncle, the conspirator, called 
on him at Essex House : and in the Sydney Papers there 
is an account of a quarrel between Lord Southampton and 
one Ambrose Willoughby, on account of the former persist- 
ing to play at primero in the presence chamber after the 
queen had retired to rest. From an epigram of Sir John 
Harrington we learn that the games most in vogue in this 
queen's reign were prime or primero, mawe, loadam, noddy, 
bankerout, and lavolta, if this last be not rather an expres- 
sion used at play, than the name of a game. 

Bishop Latimer in his sermons would occasionally avail 
himself of the card terms, which he called dealing out 
Christianity : and Fuller records a country minister, who, 
preaching from Romans xii. 13, "As God has dealt to 
every man the measure of faith," prosecuted the metaphor 
of dealing, urging his hearers to play above-board, not to 
pocket cards, but to follow suit, &c. ; a mode of preaching 
which was admirably effectual in those days, though it 
would be deemed liighly indecorous in ours. 

It appears from a passage in the Gull's Hornbook, pub- 
lished in the reign of James I., that the spectators at the 
playhouse amused themselves with cards while waiting for 
the commencement of the performance. 



264 SEDENTARY AMUSEMENTS. 

MawCj the second game mentioned by Sir John Harring- 
ton, and one of which we find frequent notices in our earlier 
writers, was played with a piquet pack of thirty-six cards, 
and any number of persons from two to six may form the party. 
When six play, a card is turned up all round, and those 
who have the three highest are partners, and are opposed 
to the three lowest : when four only play, it is two against 
two, as at whist. This game had a variety of strict rules 
and technical terms which it would be tedious to recapitu- 
late. 

Noddy seems to have borne some resemblance to the more 
recent and childish game of Beat the knave out of doors, 
which is mentioned, together with Ruff and new coat, in 
Heywood's play of A Woman killed with Kindness. 

Gleek is joined with primero in Green's Tu quoque, 
where one of the characters proposes to play at twelve- 
penny gleek, but the other insists on making it for a crown 
at least. A long account of this game is given in the Com- 
plete Gamester, where it is called " a noble and delightful 
game and recreation." Duchat says it derives its name 
from the German gluck — ^hazard, luck, chance. The hold- 
ing of three cards of one suit, as three kings, three knaves, 
three aces, &c. constitutes the gleek. 

Bankerout is probably the same with bankfalet, described 
in the Complete Gamester. At this game the cards must 
be cut into as many parcels as there are players, or more, as 
«iay be agreed. Every one stakes as much on his own 
■card as he chooses, or if there be any supernumerary parcels, 
^ny one may stake on them. The dealer pays to every 
player whose card is superior to his, and receives from 
every one whose card is inferior. The best cards are the 
aces, and of these diamonds are the highest ; then hearts, 
clubs, and lastly spades. Of the other cards, the power is 
the same as at whist. We are informed that the modern 
name of this amusement is blind hazard. 

Ombre owes its invention to the Spaniards, and is said to 
partake of the gravity which is the peculiar character of 
that nation. It is called II Homhre, or the man, and was 
so named, says Bullet, on account of the deep thought and 
reflection it requires, which render it a game worthy the 
attention of man." " There are several sorts of ombre," 
says the Complete Gamester, " but that which is the chief 



PLAYING-CARDS. 265 

Is called renegade, at which three only can play, to whom 
are dealt nine cards apiece, so that by discarding the eights, 
nines, and tens, there will remain thirteen cards in the 
stock." Mr. Barrington* says it was probably introduced 
into this country by Catharine of Portugal, the queen of 
Charles II., as Waller hath a poem " on a card torn at 
ombre by the queen." It continued to be in vogue for some 
time in the last century, for it is BeUnda's game, in the 
Rape of the Lock, where every incident in the whole deal is 
so accurately described that when ombre is forgotten (and 
it is almost so already), it may be revived with posterity 
from that (ielightful poem. Many of our readers will 
doubtless recollect to have seen among old furniture some 
of the three-cornered tables which were made purposely for 
ombre. Attention and quietness are said to be absolutely 
necessary for this game ; for if a player be ever so expert, 
he will be apt to fall into mistakes if his thoughts are 
diverted, or he is disturbed by the conversation of by- 
standers. The Spaniards occasionally called this game 
manilla, from the name of the second of the matadores, 
which latter are termed killing-cards, because the man who 
in the bull-feast despatches the animal is designated the 
matador. The first is the ace of spades, termed espadilla ; 
the second, which is the seven, is a red suit ; the deuce is 
black, and is called manilla. The ace of clubs, which is 
the third, bears the name of basto ; the fourth, a red ace, is 
called punto, literally the point or ace. 

Quadrille^ which is only another species of ombre, ap- 
pears to have superseded it, and to have been very popular 
in England until whist began to be played upon scientific 
principles. Although it was a Spanish name, it has been 
claimed as a French invention, and was a great favourite 
with the ladies, as requiring much less attention than 
ombre. There was a modification of it which might be 
played by three persons, but it is generally considered far 
inferior to the game by four. 

Reverses is a French game, supposed to have been in- 
vented in the court of Francis I., the gayety of whose dispo- 
sition attracted around him all the beauty of his dominions. 
For variety's sake the order and construction of this game 

* ArchiBologia, vol. viii. isa 
Z 



266 SEDENTARY AMUSEMENTS 

were entirely the reverse of those already in use, and hence 
its name. The lowest card had the preference, and it was 
an advantage to make no tricks. The knave of hearts was 
called the quinola, as at primero. The strange incongruity 
of this inverted order of things made the Spaniards, when 
the game became known to them, give it the appropriate 
name of La gana pierde — the winner loses. 

Bassett, which is said by Dr. Johnson to have been in- 
vented at Venice, was certainly known in Italy as early as 
the fifteenth century, for it is mentioned in a poem by Lo- 
renzo de Medici. At the close of the seventeenth it seems 
to have been a fashionable game in England. II Frussoy 
the flush, is included in Rabelais's catalogue of the games 
at which Gargantua played ; and Duchot says it was in 
vogue at the court of Lewis XIL 

Trump, which was probably the triunfo of the Italians, 
and the triomphe of the French, is perhaps of equal anti- 
quity in England with primero, and at the latter end of the 
sixteenth century was very common among the inferior 
classes. In Gammer Gurton's Needle, first acted in 1561, 
Dame Chat says to Diccan : " We be set at trump, man, 
hard by the fire ; thou shalt set upon the king." This 
game is thought to have borne some resemblance to the 
modern game of whist : the only points of dissimilarity are, 
that more or less than four persons might play at trump ; 
that all the cards were not dealt out ; and that the dealer 
had the privilege of discarding some and taking in others 
from the stock. 

Whist^ says the Complete Gamester, printed in 1680, 
" Is so common in all parts of England, that every child 
almost of eight years old, hath a competent knowledge of 
that recreation." Mr. Barrington, however, states that it 
was not played upon principles until about the year 1730, 
when it was much studied by a set of gentlemen who fre- 
quented the Crown Coffee-house in Bedford-row, before 
which time it had chiefly been confined to the servants' hall 
with All Fours and Put. The instructions for playing this 
game, printed by Cotton in 1680, are given in the appendix 
to Mr. Singer's elaborate researches, in order that the 
modern whist-player may compare them with the scientific 
and profound treatise of Mr. Hoyle. At the commence- 
ment of the last century, according to Swift, it was a 



PLAYING-CARDS. 267 

favourite pastime with clergymen, wlio played the game 
with swabbers ; these were certain cards by which the 
holder was entitled to a part of the stake, in the same 
manner that the claim is made for the aces at quadrille. 
The following explanations have been given of some of the 
terms usually employed at this game. Six or nine love is 
thought to have been derived from the old Scottish word of 
luff, or hand, so that six luff will mean so many in hand, or 
more than the adversary. The queen of clubs is some- 
times called Queen Bess, probably because that queen is 
recorded to have been of a swarthy complexion : the nine 
of diamonds has been nicknamed the curse of Scotland, 
because every ninth monarch of that nation was a bad 
king ; and not, as is generally supposed, because the Duke 
of Cumberland, the night before the battle of Culloden, 
accidentally wrote his orders for refusing quarter upon the 
back of this card. 

Piquet is generally admitted to be of French origin, but 
the date of its invention cannot be ascertained, though it is 
recorded as being popular in 1668. The advocates of this 
game maintain it to be one of the most amusing and com- 
plete that are played with cards, although it has in most 
places been superseded by whist. That its name imports it 
to be of military origin we have already stated. A piquet 
is a certain number of men chosen by companies to be 
ready to mount at the shortest notice. 

All attempts at allegorizing cards, or making them sub- 
servient to the purpose of inculcating morals or useful 
knowledge of any kind, have been attended with but limited 
success ; while it is to be feared that these very means may 
have sometimes awakened a taste for play, where it would 
not otherwise have existed. An elegant moralist has been 
led to the following reflections, which the most inveterate 
card-player must allow to be just. 

" I must confess, I think it below reasonable creatures to 
be altogether conversant in such diversions as are merely 
innocent, and have nothing else to recommend them but 
that there is no hurt in them. Whether any kind of gaming 
has even this much to say for itself I shall not determine ; 
but I think it very wonderful to see persons of the best sense 
passing away a dozen hours together in shuffling and dividing 
a pack of cards, with no other conversation than what is 



268 SEDENTARY AMUSEMENTS 

made up of a few game-phrases, and no other ideas but those 
of black or red spots ranged together in different figures 
Would not a man laugh to hear one of this species com- 
plaining that life is short ?"* 

The celebrated Mr. Locke is reported to have been once 
in company with three distinguished noblemen, his contem- 
poraries, the Lords Shaftesbury, Halifax, and Anglesea, who 
proposed cards, when Mr. Locke declined playing, saying 
he would amuse himself by looking on. During the time 
these noblemen were at play, he was observed to busy him- 
self by writing in his table-book. At the conclusion of their 
play. Lord Anglesea's curiosity prompted him to ask Locke 
what he had been writing. His answer was, " in order that 
none of the advantages of your conversation might be lost, 
I have taken notes of it ;" and producing his note-book, it 
was found to be the fact. The inanity of such a collection 
of disjointed jargon, it is said, had the desired effect on the 
three noble philosophers ; the reproof was not lost upon 
them, and cards were never again attempted to be substi- 
tuted for rational conversation, at least in the presence of 
Mr. Locke. 

Yet cards are thought to have been instrumental to the 
progress of civilization, in having tended to humanize man, 
by bringing him more into female society. Surely this is a 
satire upon the most lovely part of the creation ; and how- 
ever necessary they may have been formerly, the present 
improved state of the world, and the just rank which wo- 
men are now enabled, from superior education, to take in 
society, render cards no longer needful for this purpose. A 
zealous Spaniard, early in the seventeenth century, loudly 
exclaims against the use of them — " To see cards in the 
hands of a woman," says he, " appears as unnatural as to 
see a soldier with a distaff." Yet, in a mixed and nume- 
rous party, they may still be found to have their uses. " Let 
not cards, therefore, be depreciated ; a happy invention, 
which, adapted equally to every capacity, removes the invidi- 
ous distinctions of nature, bestows on fools the pre-emi- 
nence of genius, or reduces wit and wisdom to the level of 
folly."t 

The reader of Mr. Singer's work, from which these obser- 

* Spectator, No. 93. 

t Henry's History of Great Britain, vol. xii. p. 385 



CHESS. ?d9 

vations and the preceding notices have been gleaned, will 
not fail to add, in further vindication of the amusement in 
question, that it can never be deemed trifling or unimpor- 
tant, since it has called into exercise so much varied and 
extensive learning, and produced so curious and elaborate 
a quarto as the " Researches into the History of Playing- 
cards." 



CHAPTER XXni. 

Sedentary Amusements. — Chess. 

" Dicite, Seriades Nympliae, certamina tanta 
Carminibus prorsus vatum illibata priorum: 
Vos hujusludi in primis meminisse necesse est : 
Vos primge studia haec Italis monstrastis in oris 
Scacchidis egregiae." 

Hieronymus Vida. 

If we are to believe our motto, and the learned Vida, 
whose Latin poem entitled " Scacchiae Ludus" obtained 
for him the patronage of Leo X. and the bishopric of Alba, 
the game which he celebrates was invented by the Serian 
nymphs in memory of their sister Scacchis, from whom it 
took the Latin name of Scacchiae Ludus, whence is derived 
the French word Echecs, and our English term Chess. It 
was a happy choice, says Dr. Warton, to write a poem on 
chess ; nor is the execution less happy. The various strata- 
gems and manifold intricacies of this ingenious game, so 
difficult to be described in Latin, are here expressed with 
the greatest perspicuity and elegance ; so that perhaps the 
game might be learned from this description. Our English 
poet Pope not only speaks of the author as 

Immortal Vida, on whose honour'd brow, 
The poet's lays and critic's ivy grow, 

but probably took from his Game of Chess the first idea of 
the Rape of the Lock, substituting the sylphs for the Olym- 
pian deities employed by the Bishop of Alba. Vida, who 
Z2 



270 SEDENTARY AMUSEMENTS. 

Beems to have been a better poet and Latinist than anti- 
quary, has not found any one to support him in his fanciful 
derivation of the game from the nymph Scacchis. Its real 
origin still remains a questio vexata among the learned. Sa- 
rasin has an express treatise on the different opinions re- 
specting the derivation of the Latin Scacchi, and Menage is 
also very full on the same head. By some, this noble or, 
as it is frequently called, royal pastime, is said to have 
originated, together with dice-playing, at the siege of Troy ; 
others derive it from the Hebrews ; and Fabricius says, that 
the game of chess was discovered by a celebrated Persian 
astronomer, one Schatrenscha, who gave it his own name, 
which it still bears in that country ; in confirmation of which 
opinion Bochart adds, that scach is originally Persian ; and 
that in that language- Scachmat (whence our checkmate) 
signifies the king is dead. 

Mr. Irwin, who made researches into this subject during 
his residence in India, maintains it to be a Chinese inven- 
tion, to which effect he found a tradition current among the 
Brahmins ; and infers, as the result of his inquiries and 
researches, that the confined situation and powers of the 
king, resembHng those of a monarch in the earlier stages 
of the world, countenance this supposition ; and that as the 
invention travelled westward, and descended to later times, 
the sovereign prerogative extended itself, until it became 
unlimited, as in our present state of the game : that the 
agency of the princes, in lieu of the queen, who does not 
exist in the oriental chess-board, bespeaks forcibly the nature 
of the Chinese customs, which exclude females from all 
influence or power whatever : these princes, in the passage 
of the game through Persia, were changed into k single 
vizier, or minister of state, with the enlarged portion of 
delegated authority that exists there ; and for this vizier, 
the Europeans, with the same gallantry that had prompted 
the French to add a queen to the pack of cards, substituted 
a queen on the chess-board, a coincidence which confirms 
the oriental origin of both games. Mr. Irwin further sug- 
gests, that the painted river which divides the two parties 
on the" Chinese chess-boards is expressive of the general 
face of the country, where a battle could hardly be fought 
without some such intervention, which the soldier is hera 



CHESS. 271 

taught to overcome : but that on the introduction of the 
game into Persia, the board, in accordance with the dry 
nature of that region, was made to represent terra firma. 
And lastly, that the game was designed in the spirit of war 
to quiet the murmurs, by employing the vacant hours of a 
discontented soldiery, while it cherished in them a taste for 
tactics and the spirit of conquest. The Chinese annals 
date the invention of chess 379 years after the time of Con- 
fucms, or about two thousand years ago. 

Sir William Jones, however, claims this invention for the 
Hindoos, on the authority of the Persians, who unanimously 
agree that it was imported into their country from the west 
of India in the sixth century of our era ; and he traces the 
successive corruptions of the original Sanscrit term, through 
the Persians and Arabs, into scacchi, echecs, chess ; which, 
by a whimsical concurrence of circumstances, has given 
birth to the English word check, and even a name to the Ex- 
-chequer of Great Britain. Sir William recites the various 
ordinances of the Indian game, as imbodied in a set of rules, 
which in the original Sanscrit is written in verse, and in 

?oint of date claims considerable precedence of Vida's 
latin poem upon the same subject. It is well worth the 
attention of any chess-lover to compare the two, which our 
narrow limits prevent us from attempting. 

John de Vigney wrote a book which he calls the Morali- 
zation of Chess, wherein he assures us that it was invented 
by a philosopher named Xerxes, in the reign of Evil-mero- 
dach. King of Babylon, in order that it might engage the 
attention and correct the manners of that dissolute monarch. 
The Arabians and the Saracens, who are «aid to be great 
chess-players, have new-modelled this story, and adapted 
it to their own country, changing the name of the philoso- 
pher from Xerxes to Sisa. 

When it was first brought into Europe it is impossible 
to determine, but we have good reason for supposing it to 
have been a favourite and fascinating pastime with persons 
of rank at least a century anterior to the Norman conquest. 
William the Conqueror, when a young man, being one day 
engaged at chess with the King of France's eldest son, 
and exa?perated at something uttered by his antagonist, 
struck him with the chess-board, and was obliged to mak 
a precipitate retreat to avoid the consequences of his rash 



272 SEDENTARY AMUSEMENTS. 

ness. Leland records a nearly similar circumstance to have 
happened to the youngest son of our Henry II., when 
playing with Fulco Guarine, a nobleman of Shropshire. 
We are told by Dr. Robertson, in his History of Charles 
v., that John Frederic, Elector of Saxony, having been 
taken prisoner by Charles, was condemned to death ; a 
decree which was intimated to him while at chess with 
Ernest of Brunswick, his fellow-prisoner. After a short 
pause, and making some reflections on the irregularity and 
injustice of the emperor's proceedings, he challenged his 
antagonist to finish, the game, played with his usual inge- 
nuity and attention ; and, having won, expressed all the 
satisfaction usually felt on gaining such victories. 

Dr. Hyde, quoting from an Arabic history of the Sara- 
cens, tells us that the Calif of Bagdad was engaged at 
chess with his freedman Kuthar, when a soldier rushed in 
to inform him that the city, which was then vigorously 
besieged, was on the point of being carried by assault. 
" Let me alone," said the calif, " for I see checkmate against 
Kuthar !" 

In the chronicle of the Moorish kings of Grenada, we 
find it related that in 1396, Mehemed Balba seized upon 
the crown in prejudice of his elder brother Juzaf, whom he 
ordered to be put to death that he might secure the succes- 
sion of his own son. The alcaid despatched for that pur- 
pose found the prince playing at chess with a priest. Juzaf 
begged hard for two hours' respite, which was denied him ; 
at last, though with great reluctance, the officer permitted 
him to play out his game ; but before it was finished, a 
messenger arrived with the news of the sudden death of 
Mehemed, and the unanimous election of Juzaf to the 
crown. 

We record the following anecdote as a warning to such 
of our male and married readers as may be in the perilous 
habit of playing chess with a wife. Ferrand, Count of 
Flanders, having constantly defeated the countess at chess, 
she conceived a hatred against him, which came to such a 
height, that when the count was taken prisoner at the battle 
of Bovines, she suffered him to remain a long time in prison, 
though she could easily have procured his release. 

Our Charles I. was thus occupied when informed that 
the Scots had finally resolved to sell him to the parliament ; 



CHESS. 273 

but he was so intent upon the game that he finished it with 
great composure. Innumerable are the similar instances 
that might be adduced to prove the deep fascination which 
this bewitching game exercises over the minds of those 
who lend themselves to its seductions. 

The chess-board, the number of the pieces, and the man- 
ner in which they are played, do not appear to have under- 
gone much, if any, variation for several centuries, though 
the forms and names have suffered material change. The 
rock or fortress we have corrupted into a rook : the bishop 
was with us formerly an archer, while the French denomi- 
nated it Alfin, and Fol, which were perversions of the ori- 
ginal oriental term for the elephant. The ancient Persian 
game of chess consisted of the following pieces, which were 
thus named when they reached Europe : 

1. Schach, 3. PM, 5. Ruch, 

The Kmg. The Elephant. The Dromedary. 

2. Pherz, 4. Aspen Suar, 6. Beydal, 
The Vizier, or The Horseman. Foot-soldier. 

General. 

Upon the introduction of the game into France the pieces 
were no doubt called by the Persian names, but in process 
of time these were partly changed by translation, and partly 
modified by French terminations. Schach was converted 
by translation into Roy, the king. Pherz, the vizier, 
became Fercie, Fierce, Fierge, Vierge, and was of course 
at last converted into a lady. Dame. The elephant, Phil^ 
was easily altered into Fol, or the modem Fou. Of the 
horseman, Aspen Suar, they made the cavalier or knight. 
The dromedary, Ruch, was changed into a castle, tour or 
tower : probably from being confounded with the elephant, 
which is usually represented carrying a castle. The foot- 
soldiers, Beydal, were retained by the name of Pietons, or 
Pions, whence our pawns. 

Pleasure was afforded to the early chess-player, not only 
from the nice and abstruse nature of the game itself, but 
from its being considered a perpetual allegory, or emblem 
of state policy, a character of which it is not altogether unde- 
serving, since we have seen that in its westward progress it 
was adapted to the institutions of the countries that fostered 
it. Our poet Denham recognises its sage and instructive 
nature. 



%74. SEDENTARY AMUSEMENTS. 

This game the Persian magi did invent, 

The force of Eastern wisdom to express ; 
From thence to busy Europeans sent, 

And styled, by modern Lombards, pensive chess. 

But the political and moral purposes of the game are 
more curiously set forth in a short poem by Mr. Craig, pre- 
fixed to an old translation of Vida, which is now lying 
before us. Of these verses we shall extract a few, not for 
their intrinsic merit, which is moderate enough, but to 
exemplify the writer's notions of the high mysteries con- 
tained in the game, as well as to relieve for a moment the 
prosaic dulness of our own labours. 

A monarch strongly guarded here we view, 
By his own consort aad his clergy too. 
Next those, two knights their royal sire attend, 
And two steep rocks are planted at each end. — 
To clear the way before this courtly throng, 
Eight pawns as private soldiers march along; 
Enfans perdus ! like heroes stout and brave, 
Risk their own lives the sovereign to save — 
All in their progress forming a complete 
And perfect emblem of the game of state 

The bishop's nearness to the royal pair 
Points that it still should be a prince's care 
To trust and cherish priests of God, because 
It is presumed they best explain his laws 
To- his vicegerent ; and in oblique ways 
Traverse and mystic to the vulgar eyes, 
Perfect their measures, «&c. 

Though from the king the knights more distant be, 
Yet by their crooked leap we often see, 
The sovereign forced to fly his royal seat 
And in spme secret corner seek retreat ; 
Whereas, had any other been so bold, 
Th' insulting check he could have soon controll'd, 
And placed another member in the gap. 
Till he should meditate his own escape. ^^ 

So, there 's no danger in a government 
A prince should be more cautious to prevent, 
Than the revolt of nobles and the great. 
For their example oft affects the state. — 

Each lofty rock with its exalted towers, 
Like frontier garrisons the state secures, 
And sometimes as a safe asylum prove 
To their own monarch, when he 's forced to move.— 

The king himself but one short pace must go, 
Though all the rest may rally to and fro , 



CHESS. 275 

Hence kings should never heedlessly expose 
Their sacred persons to the assaults of foes ; 
The kingdom's welfare on their life depends, 
And in their death the nation's safety ends. 

The first deviser thought it fit the queen 
Should in this warlike pastime predomine. 
In ecclesiastic paths she freely moves, 
And thro' the rocky way unbounded roves ; 
Yet must she not th' indecent footsteps trace 
Of leap-skip knights, nor imitate their pace — 
Although the king's prerogative is such, 
That none his person or his life can touch. 
Others, by their bad conduct when misled, 
May be swept off the field of war as dead. 
Nor does the monarch still the battle lose, 
In number tho' inferior to his foes, 
But by the hazard of one pawn may gain, 
And prudent conduct victory obtain. 

Nor must we here omit the pawns' reward, 
Who, when courageous, justly are preferr'd. 
If they the limits of the board can reach, 
Like those who first assault a dangerous breach. — 

This to our view doth fully represent 
Virtue's reward, and vice's punishment ;— 
So active minds themselves to glory raise. 
While slothful cowards their own souls debase 

The game thus ended, kings with pawns are jumbled, 
Queens, knights, rooks, bishops, all confus'dly tumbled, 
Into the box, pell-mell, are headlong toss'd. 
And all their grandeur in oblivion lost. — 
Thus monarchs with their meanest subjects must 
Be one day levell'd in their native dust. 
So short-liv'd, fading, vain, and transitory, 
That shadow of a phantom — human glory ! 

It would be hardly fair towards the historian and poet- 
laureate of the game of chess to dismiss the subject with- 
out a short specimen of Marcus Hieronymus Vida, whom 
Mr. Roscoe lauds for his admirable talent of uniting a con- 
siderable portion of classical elegance, and often dignity, 
with the utmost facility and clearness. Whether his style 
deserve the praise of being a just mixture of Virgil and 
Lucretius we leave the reader to determine ; so far as a judg- 
ment may be formed from so short a citation. Jupiter, 
enthroned in all his state, thus issues his commands to the 
deities, as to the parts they are to act in a pending gam<^ 
of chess between an Albian and an Ethiopian prince. 



876 ENGLISH DRAMA. 

" Hos Pater adversis solos decernere jussit 
Inter se studiis, et ludicra bella fovere, 
Ac partes tutari ambas, quas vellet uterque : 
Nee non proposuit victori praemia digna. — 
Dii magni sedt^re : Deum stat turba minorum 
Circumfusa ; caveat sed lege, et fcedere pacto, 
Ne quisquam, voce aut nutu, ludentibus ausit 
Praevisos monstrare ictus.— Quein denique primuro 
Sors inferre aciem vocet, atque invadere Martem 
Quae situm : primumque locum certaminis Albo 
Ductori tulit, ut quem vellet primus in hostem 
Mitteret : Id san6 magni referre putabant. — 
Turn tacitus secum versat, quem ducere contra 
Conveniat ; peditemque jubet procedere campum 
In medium, qui Reginam dirimebat ab hoste." 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

English Drama. 

" Hard is his lot that here by fortune placed, 
Must watch the wild vicissitudes of taste ; 
With every meteor of caprice must play, 
And chase the new-blown bubbles of the day. 
Ah I let not censure term our fate our choice, 
The stage but echoes back the public voice ; 
The drama's laws the drama's patrons give, 
For we, that live to please, must please to live. 
Then prompt no more the follies you decry, 
As tyrants doom their tools of guilt to die." 

Dr. Johnson. 

Op the origin of the drama among the Greeks and 
Romans we have already spoken in our fourth chapter, 
where we have shown that it had its source in the public 
games and religious festivals, at which it was customary to 
celebrate the life and exploits of the deity or hero in whose 
honour they were instituted. It is not our purpose to enter 
into the much-agitated controversy concerning the origin of 
the modern drama in Europe ; for whether it arose in 
France or Italy, among the troubadours of Provence or the 
shepherds in Calabria, it will be sufficient for our purpose 
to contend that it was a distinct species of itself, and not a 
revival of the ancient drama ; that it was of Gothic rather 



ENGLISH DRAMA. 277 

than of classic birth ; and that it ought not, therefore, to 
be bound by the rules or compared with the merits of its 
Grecian predecessor. Had Shakspeare been circumscribed 
by the ancient dramatic laws, of which he was probably 
ignorant, and which he certainly did not mean to follow, we 
should have had cold and tame imitation, instead of the 
fiery flights of original genius ; and the dramatic glory of 
England would have suffered a lamentable eclipse. 

Nothing, indeed, is more superfluous than our inquiries 
into the origin of great and useful inventions ; nothmg 
more vain than the keen contests among rival nations for 
the honour of their first discovery : for the principles of 
human nature being the same in all parts of the world, 
there may be often coincident productions at the two ex- 
tremities of the globe, absolutely identical in their general 
nature, and yet both fully entitled to the merit of being 
original. Imitation is not less inherent in our nature than 
the passions ; and if these were the sources of poetry in 
general, the former must in all ages have given rise to 
dramatic representations. It is natural for indolent per- 
sons, who have no resources in their arts or learning against 
the tediousness of life, to delight in assuming fictitious 
characters, as we see children at school fond of acting kings 
and heroes, and of rudely dramatising the stories which 
have made the most vivid impressions upon their fancy. 
What thus began in amusement was soon found to be sus- 
ceptible of a much higher and nobler application. As ex- 
ample is the strongest and most effectual manner of 
enforcing the precepts of wisdom, it became manifest that 
a just theatrical representation might be rendered a human- 
izing and instructive academy ; with this special advantage, 
that the young spectator might contemplate a picture of 
human nature, and learn the manners of the world without 
encountering its perils. 

•' Even some of the inspired writings have been con- 
sidered dramatical by very pious persons. The illustrious 
Bossuet divides the Song of Solomon into various scenes : 
the Book of Job, equally valuable for its great antiquity 
and for the noble strain of moral poetry in which it is com- 
posed, has been esteemed a regular drama ; and Milton tells 
us that a learned critic distributed the Apocalypse into 
several acts, distinguished by a chorus of angels. Gregory 
A, a 



278 ENGLISH DRAMA. 

of Nazianzen, a poet and a father of the church, persuaded 
the people of Byzantium to represent on their theatre some 
chosen stories of the Old and New Testament, and to banish 
from their stage the profane compositions of Sophocles and 
Euripides. The Jews themselves had the stories of the 
Old Testament exhibited in the dramatic form ; part of a 
Jewish piece on the subject of Exodus is preserved in 
Greek iambics, written by one Ezekiel, who styles himself 
the poet of the Hebrews."* 

A custom of representing at every solemn festival some 
event recorded in Scripture, became almost general nearly 
at the same period, in the south, the west, and even in the 
north of Europe ; in the two latter of which divisions the 
poems of Gregory and the language of the Greeks were 
wholly unknown ; so that neither can have borrowed their 
mysteries from Constantinople. In both these instances 
they probably originated in the pious desire of disseminating 
a knowledge of the Bible, at a time when the mass of the 
people were unable to read, and when even those who pos- 
sessed that rare qualification, could not betake themselves 
to the Scriptures, since they were mostly restricted to the 
Latin language. Although the clergy in many instances 
opposed themselves to any version of the sacred writings in 
the vulgar tongue, they do not seem to have objected to the 
translating into action, or dramatising such portions of 
them as were most susceptible of being thus illustrated. 
Of these pious, or as we should now rather say profane, 
performances, the church was the theatre ; the ecclesiastics 
themselves or their scholars were the performers ; and it 
appears that they were not altogether disinterested teachers, 
nor content with such scriptural knowledge or moral in- 
struction as could be thus conveyed, since they derived a 
pecuniary profit from their exhibitions. These were termed 
mysteries and miracles, because they inculcated the pro- 
found doctrines of Christianity, and represented the miracles 
wrought by the great founders of the faith and their suc- 
cessors, as well as the sufferings of the martyrs. 

* The principal characters of this drama are Moses, Sepphora, and 
h Qeog and ^aru, " God speaking from the bush." Moses delivers the 
prologue in a speech of sixty lines, and his rod is changed into a serpent 
upon the stage.— See The Origin of the English Drama, by Thomas 
Hawkins, p. 6. 



ENGLISH DRAMA. 279 

No other species of drama was known at Rome and 
Florence in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. The 
passion of our Saviour was performed in the Coliseum ; 
and if their music at that period had been as perfect as it 
is now, — if the poetry of so awful a piece had been com- 
posed by a Metastasio, and the choral part by a Pergolesi, 
the effect upon a devout people, who are at the same time 
passionate admirers of music, would have been profoundly 
impressive ; while the stupendous extent of the building 
must have presented a still grander and more august spec- 
tacle than our commemoration of Handel. 

It is generally imagined that the English stage rose later 
than the rest of its neighbours ; and yet nothing is more 
certain than that we had theatrical entertainments almost 
as early as the Conquest, if we may believe Fitz Stephen, 
who, in his Descriptio nohilissim(Z Civitatis Londonia, says, 
" London, instead of common interludes belonging to the 
theatres, has plays of a more holy subject ; representations 
of those miracles which the holy confessors wrought, or of 
the sufferings wherein the glorious constancy of the martyrs 
did appear." This author was a monk of Canterbury, 
who wrote in the time of Henry H. ; and as he does not 
mention these representations as novelties, for he is describ- 
ing all the common diversions of the time, we can hardly 
fix them later than the Conquest, which we believe is an 
earlier date than can be claimed for such entertainments by 
any of our continental neighbours. The first play of this 
kind specified by name is understood to have been called St. 
Catherine,* and, according to Matthew Paris, was written 
by Geofrey, a Norman, about the year 1110, and performed 
in the abbey at Dunstable. In Chaucer's time the miracle- 
plays were exhibited during the season of Lent, when a 
sequel of Scripture-histories was sometimes carried on for 
several days. At Skinner's Well, near Smithfield, in the 
reign of Henry IV., we read of a drama which lasted eight 
days, beginning with the creation of the world, and con- 
taining the greater part of the history of the Old and New 
Testament. This must have borne a close analogy to the 
well-known mystery entitled Corpus Christi, or Ludus Co- 
ventricey the Coventry play, transcripts of which, nearly if 

* Quendam ludum de Sancta Katerina (quem miracula vulgariter ap- 
pellamus), fecit. — Vitae Abbat. p. 35> as cited by Strutt. 



280 ENGLISH DRAMA. 

not altogether coeval with the time of its representation, 
are yet in existence. Three persons, speaking alternately, 
delivered the prologue to this curious play, which began 
with the creation of the universe, and ended with the last 
judgment. 

Sometimes, however, the mysteries consisted of single 
subjects, and made but one performance. Strutt mentions 
two of these mystery-plays, which he discovered in the 
Bodleian library at Oxford; one on the conversion of St. 
Paul, the other the casting out of the devils from Mary 
Magdalene. Notwithstanding the seriousness of the sub- 
jects selected for these performances, and the sacred charac- 
ter of the building in which they were usually displayed, it 
seems clear that they were not exhibited without a portion 
of pantomimical fiin, to make them palatable to the vulgar 
taste ; and, indeed, the length and dulness of the speeches 
required some such assistance to enliven them, though they 
were in general much shorter than the modem plays. Beel- 
zebub was the principal comic actor, assisted by his merry 
troop of under-devilsjwho with a variety ofvoices, strange ges- 
tures, and contortions of the body, excited the laughter of 
the populace. " It was a pretty part in the old church- 
plays," says Harsenet in his Declaration of Popish Impos- 
tures, 1603, " When the nimble Vice would skip up like a 
jackanapes into the Devil's neck, and ride the Devil a course ; 
and belabour him with his wooden dagger till he made him 
roar ; whereat the people would laugh to see the Devil so 
vice-haunted." Nor can there be any doubt that these pro- 
fane mummeries were presented under the express direction 
of the clergy ; for in the year 1378, the masters and scholars 
of Paul's school presented a petition to Richard II., pray- 
ing him " to prohibit some unexpert people from presenting 
the history of the Old Testament, to the great prejudice of 
the said clergy, who have been at great expense in order to 
represent it publicly at Christmas." How long these mys- 
teries continued to be exhibited cannot be exactly deter- 
mined ; but the whole period of their continuance may be 
termed the dead sleep of the muses, both here and abroad. 

In Italy they prevailed long after the revival of literature ; 
for the classic models were known to the learned only, and 
it was necessary to gratify the people with subjects adapted 
to their capacity. One would scarcely have believed that 



ENGLISH DRAMA. 281 

when Tasso had written his Arminta, and furnished the 
noblest hints for tragedy in his Gierusalemme, the most 
ridiculous farces should still be exhibited at Milan ; and 
that when Guarini had introduced a chorus of shepherds in 
his Pastor Fido, the people of Italy should still be fond of 
seeing the Seven Deadly Sins dance a saraband with the 
evil spirit. 

Of the absurdities and ignorance displayed in these rude 
plays the reader, who may not have consulted them, can 
scarcely form a notion. In a mystery named The Slaughter 
of the Innocents,* the Hebrew soldiers swear by Mahound 
or Mahomet, who was not born till six hundred years after. 
Herod's messenger is named Watkin ; and the knights are 
directed "to walk about the stage, while Mary and the 
Infant are conveyed into Egypt." Yet notwithstanding 
these egregious blunders and anachronisms, there is some 
kind of spirit in the character, and elevation in the lan- 
guage, of Herod, who thus announces himself: 

Above all kinges under the clouds christall 
Royally I reigne, in welthe withouten woe ; 

lines in which the reader w^ill observe a specimen of the 
alliterative metre invented by the northern bards and so 
long a favourite ornament of our English poets. 

One of the first improvements on the old mystery was the 
allegorical play or morality, so termed because the subjects 
consisted of moral reasoning in praise of virtue and con- 
demnation of vice. The dialogues were carried on by such 
characters as Good Doctrine, Charity, Faith, Prudence, 
Discretion, Death, and the like, whose discourses were of a 
serious cast ; while the province of making merriment for 
the spectators descended from the Devil in the mystery to 
the Vice or Iniquity of the moraUty, who usually personified 
some bad quality ; and even when the regular tragedies and 
comedies were introduced, we may trace the descendants 
of this facetious personage in the clowns and fools by 
which they were so frequently disgraced. That this motley 
fool should be admitted into the finest tragedies of Shaks- 
peare, only proves how indispensable it had been rendered 



* Printed in Hawkins's Origin of the English Drama. 
Aa2 



282 ENGLISH DRAMA, 

by the false taste of the age. Something of design, how- 
ever, appeared in the morahties : there was a fable and a 
moral ; a sprinkling also of poetry ; but not unfrequently 
they were still devoted to purposes of religion, which 
was then the paramount object of attention. In the more 
early days of the Reformation it was so common for the 
partisans of the old doctrines (and perhaps also of the new) 
to defend and illustrate their tenets by dramatic representa- 
tions, that in the 24th of Henry VIIL, in an act of parUa- 
ment made for the promoting of true religion, we find a 
clause restraining all rimors or players from singing in 
songs or playing in interludes any thing that should contra- 
dict the established doctrines. It was also customary at 
this time to act those moral and religious dramas in private 
houses for the edification and improvement as well as the 
diversion of well-disposed families ; for which purpose the 
appearance of the dramatis 'persona was so regulated, that 
five or six actors might represent twenty characters. A 
more particular knowledge of these performances, any 
further than as it serves to show the turn and genius of our 
ancestors and the progressive refinement of our language, 
is so little desirable, that the loss of the materials which 
.might furnish fuller information is hardly to be regretted. 

Even at the time when these mysteries and moralities 
were in vogue, there were secular plays and interludes acted 
by strolling companies, composed of minstrels, jugglers, 
tumblers, dancers, jesters, and similar performers, whose 
exhibitions were much relished, not only by the vulgar, but 
by the gentry and nobility. The courts of the kings of 
England and the castles of the barons were crowded with 
these itinerants, who were well received and handsomely 
rewarded, to the great annoyance of their clerical rivals, 
who endeavoured to bring them into disgrace, by inveigh- 
ing against the filthiness and immorality of their perform- 
ances, reproaches which seem to have been but too well 
merited. There existed then in Europe at the opening 
of the sixteenth century two distinct species of drama ; 
the one formed upon the ancient classic model, and con- 
fined, like the sacred dialect of the Egyptian priests, to men 
of learning ; the other merely popular, and of a Gothic 
original, but capable of great improvement, which now 
began to manifest itself. Being intended to divert as well 



ENGLISH DRAMA. 283 

as instruct the populace, the moralities contained a good 
portion of drollery and humour, with some rude attempts at 
wit, which naturally led the way for comedy. The first 
dramatic piece deserving this name was Gammer GurtorCs 
Needle, written in 1551, and said, in the old titlepages, to 

be " made by Mr. S , master of arts, and played on the 

stage in Christ's College, in Cambridge." — There is a vein 
of familiar humour in this play, and a kind of grotesque 
imagery, not unlike some parts of Aristophanes, but with- 
out those graces of language and metre for which the Greek 
comedian was eminently distinguished. The prevailing 
turn for drollery was so strong, Ijhat in order to gratify it, 
even in the more serious and solemn scenes, it was still 
necessary to retain the Vice or Buffoon ; who, like his con- 
temporary, the privileged fool, was to enter the most august 
presence, and vent his humour without restraint. Shaks- 
peare's clowns, as we have already intimated, were suc- 
cessors of the old Vice, and our modern Punch may be 
deemed a representative of the same personage in dumb 
show. We have a specimen of the former character in the 
old play of Cambyses, where Ambidexter, who is expressly 
called the Vice, enters with an old capcase for a helmet, 
and a skimmer for his sword, in order, as the author ex- 
presses it, " to make pastime." 

After these moralities come what are termed interludes, 
which made some approaches to wit and humour. Many 
of them were written by John Hey wood, jester to Henry 
Vin. Moralities, however, were still occasionally ex- 
hibited ; one of them, entitled The New Custom, was printed 
so late as 1573. At length, after various modifications and 
improvements, they assumed the name of masks, which 
in the reign of Elizabeth and her successor became the 
favourite entertainments of the court. 

Now might the dramatic muse be said to be fairly awake, 
for in the reign of Henry VHI. we appear to have had 
several writers of comedy. Richard Edwards, born in 
1523, being both an excellent musician and a good poet, 
wrote two comedies, one called Palemon and Arcyte, in 
which we are told a cry of hounds in hunting was so well 
imitated that the audience were extremely delighted : the 
other was termed Damon and Pythias^ Soon after comedy 
had appeared) tragedy began likewise to be revived, but it 



584 ENGLISH DRAMA. 

was only among the more refined scholars that It at first 
retained any resemblance to the classic model. For the 
more popular audiences it was debased with an intermix- 
ture of low, gross humour, which long continued under the 
name of tragi-comedy. Our poets were mostly content to 
imitate the old mysteries, in giving only a tissue of interest- 
ing events, without any artful conduct of the fable, and 
without the least regard to the three great unities. These 
compositions they called histories, and they would probably 
have long continued the only specimens of our heroic drama, 
if a few persons of more refined taste had not introduced 
legitimate tragedy in the ancient form, intended at first for 
private and learned audiences at the inns of court, or the 
universities. It was for a grand Christmas solemnity at 
the Inner Temple, in 1561, that the tragedy of Ferrex and 
Porrex was composed by Thomas Sackville, afterward Lord 
Buckhurst, assisted by Thomas Norton. As a favourable 
specimen of this production we extract the lines in which 
Prince Ferrex imprecates curses on himself, if he ever 
meant ill to his brother Porrex. 

The wrekeful gods pour on my cursed hede 
Eternal plagues and never-dying wars ! 
The hellish prince adjust my dampned ghoste 
To Tantal's thirst or proud Ixion's wheel, 
Or cruel gripe to gnawe my growing harte, 
To durynge tormentes and unquenched flames, 
If ever I conceived so frale a thought, 
To wish his end of life, or yet of reign. 

This play, the first dramatic piece of any consideration in 
the English language, is not void of blemishes ; but the 
language is in general dignified and perspicuous, some of 
the speeches are genuine specimens of English eloquence, 
and the account of Porrex's death is very much in the 
manner of the ancients. It was a model which our first 
dramatic writers would have done well to follow ; but as 
they unfortunately aimed no higher than at present ap- 
plause and profit, they were content to pander to the taste 
of a rude and ignorant audience, and the theatres continued 
to exhibit pieces much more in the Gothic form, than 
according to the chaste models of antiquity. How imper- 
fect they were in all dramatic art appears from an excel- 
lent criticism of Sir Philip SidneJ/ on the writers of this 



ENGLISH DRAMA. 285 

period, who, however, instead of benefiting by his advice, 
endeavoured to render their pieces as attractive as possible, 
by adorning them with dumb shows, choruses, and other 
devices. In spite of all defects we had made a far better 
progress at this time than our neighbours the French ; and 
were at least upon a footing with the other nations of Europe. 
About the year 1589 The Spanish Tragedy was written 
by Kyd, and Soliman and Persida seems to have been com- 
posed by the same author. Though not entirely free from 
pedantry and affectation, a fine spirit runs through these 
productions, and the character of Basilisco is very well sup- 
ported ; and, if Kyd's play was acted before Shakspeare's 
Henry IV. (for they were both printed in the same year, 
1599), it should seem to be the original of Falstaff. These 
tragedies are written in blank verse, intermixed with some 
passages in rhyme, where we sometimes find a smooth 
couplet not unworthy of Dryden, as — 

Where bloody furies shake their whips of steel, 
And poor Ixion turns an endless wheel. 

About the close of the sixteenth century a sacred subject 
was again delivered in the dramatic form — the story of 
David and Absalom being wrought into a tragedy by George 
Peele, a very ingenious writer and a flowery poet. This 
piece abounds in luxuriant descriptions and fine imagery, 
the author's genius seeming to have been kindled by read- 
ing the Prophets and the Song of Solomon. He calls 
lightning by a metaphor worthy of ^schylus — " the spouse 
of thunder with bright and fiery wings :" nor is his descrip- 
tion of David less worthy of admiration : 

Beauteous and bright he is, among the tribes — 
As when the sun, attir'd in glittering robes, 
Comes dancing from his oriental gate, 
And, bridegroomlike, hurls thro' the gloomy air 
His radiant beams. 

There are many passages in this play of which Milton need 
not have been ashamed, and which, perhaps, he had read 
with pleasure, especially the prologue, which is the regular 
exordium of an epic poem. 

Such was the state of the English theatre, when all at 
once the true drama received birth and perfection from the 



286 •W' ENGLISH DRAMA. 

creative genius of Shakspeare, Fletcher, Ben Jonson, and 
others, upon whose merits it is unnecessary to enlarge. 
The former, in particular, by the charms of his versification, 
the beauty of his speeches and descriptions, and the sur- 
prising vigour of his original and unassisted genius, ex- 
alted the English stage to so high a degree of perfection, 
that it rivals or surpasses the classic models of ancient 
Greece and Rome. But though he outshines all his con- 
temporaries, he has not altogether extinguished them. 
Enough of their productions remains to prove tha,t they con- 
stituted a very brilliant and wide-spread gallery of dramatic 
talent. " He overlooks and commands the admiration of 
posterity," says an admirable critic ;* " but he does it from 
the table-land, of the age in which he lived. He towers 
above his fellows ' in shape and gesture proudly eminent ;' 
but he was one of a race of giants, the tallest, the strongest, 
the most graceful, and beautiful of them ; but it was a 
common brood. If we allow, for argument's sake, that he 
was in himself equal to all his competitors put together, yet 
there was more dramatic excellence in that age than in the 
whole of the period that has elapsed since. If his contem- 
poraries with their united strength would hardly make one 
Shakspeare, certain it is that all his successors would not 
make half a one. With the exception of a single writer, 
Otway, and of a single play of his {Venice Preserved), there 
is nobody in tragedy and dramatic poetry (I do not here 
speak of comedy) to be compared to the great men of the 
age of Shakspeare and immediately after. They are a 
mighty phalanx of kindred spirits, closing him round, 
moving in the same orbit, and impelled by the same causes 
in their whirling and eccentric career. The sweetness of 
Decker, the thought of Marston, the gravity of Chapman, the 
grace of Fletcher and his young-eyed wit, Jonson's learned 
sock, the flowing vein of Middleton, Heywood's ease, the 
pathos of Webster, and Marlow's deep designs, add a 
double lustre to the sweetness, thought, gravity, grace, wit, 
artless nature, copiousness, ease, pathos, and sublime con- 
ceptions of Shakspeare's muse. For such an extraordinary 
combination and developement of fancy and genius many 
causes may be assigned ; and we may seek for the chief of 

* The late Mr. Hazlitt, in his Lecture on Dramat'c Literature, p. S. 



ENGLISH DRAMA. 287 

them in religion, in politics, in the circumstances of the 
time, the recent diffusion of letters — in local situation, and 
in the character of the men who adorned that period, and 
availed themselves so nobly of the advantages placed within 
their reach." 

This was indeed a dramatic era, since the writers for the 
stage, numerous and fertile as they were beyond all prece- 
dent, seem to have been hardly able to supply the demands 
of a people who must have been almost universally devoted 
to the entertainments of the stage, if we are to judge by the 
number of playhouses then supported in London. From 
the year 1570 to the year 1629, no less than seventeen had 
been built ; and as the theatres were so numerous, the 
companies of players were in proportion. Besides the 
children of the chapel, and of the revels, we are told that 
Queen Elizabeth established, in handsome salaries, twelve 
of the principal players of that time, who went under the 
name of her majesty's comedians and servants. Exclu- 
sively of these, many noblemen retained companies of play- 
ers, who performed not only privately in their lords' houses, 
but publicly under their license and protection. 

Abuse soon flowed from this universal and unrestricted 
indulgence in the pleasures of the stage. The great inns, 
being converted into temporary theatres, became the scenes 
of much scandalous ribaldry and shameless dissipation ; of 
which Stow has left us a record in his Survey of London. 
Speaking of the stage he says, " This, which was once a 
recreation, and used therefore now and then occasionally, 
afterward, by abuse, became a trade and calling, and so 
remains to this day. In those former days ingenious trades- 
men and gentlemen's servants would sometimes gather a 
company of themselves, and learn interludes, to expose 
vice, or to represent the noble actions of our ancestors. 
These they played at festivals, in private houses, at wed- 
dings, or other entertainments ; but in process of time it 
became an occupation : and these plays being commonly 
acted on Sundays or festivals, the churches were forsaken, 
and the playhouses thronged. Great inns were used for 
this purpose, which had secret chambers and places, as 
well as open stages and galleries. Here maids and good 
citizens' children were inveigled and allured to private 
and unmeet contr^icts ; here were publicly uttered popular 



288 ENGLISH DRAMA. 

and seditious matters, unchaste, uncomely, and shameful 
speeches, and many other enormities. The consideration 
of these things occasioned, in 1574, Sir James Hawes 
being mayor, an act of common council, in which it was 
ordained, That no play should be openly acted within the 
liberty of the city, wherein should be uttered uny words, 
examples, or doings of any unchastity, sedition, or such-like 
unfit and uncomely matter, under the penalty of five pounds, 
and fourteen days' imprisonment : that no play should be 
acted till first permitted and allowed by the lord mayor and 
court of aldermen ; with many other restrictions. But 
these orders were not so well observed as they should be ; 
the lewd matters of plays increased, and they were thought 
dangerous to religion, the state, honesty, and manners, and 
also for infection in the time of sickness : wherefore they 
were afterward for some time totally suppressed ; but upon 
application to the queen and council, they were again 
tolerated, under the following restrictions : That no plays 
be acted on Sundays at all, nor on any holyday till after 
evening prayer ; that no playing be in the dark, nor continue 
any such time but as any of the auditors may return to their 
dwellings before sunset, or, at least, before it be dark, &c. 
But all these proscriptions were not sufficient to keep them 
within due bounds, but their plays, so abusive oftentimes 
of virtue, or particular persons, gave great oflfence, and oc- 
casioned many disturbances, when they were now and then 
stopped and prohibited." 



CHAPTER XXV. 

English Drama, concluded. 

" What's gone, and what's past help, 
Should be past grief."- — 
" The players cannot keep counsel ; — this fellow will tell all." 

Shakspeare. 

Soon after this period the stage recovered its credit, and 
rose to a higher pitch than ever. In 1603, the first year of 
King James's reign, a license was granted to Shakspeare 
and others, authorizing them to act plays, not only at their 



ENGLISH DRAMA. 2^9 

usual house, the Globe, on the Bankside, but in any other 
part of the kingdom, during his majesty's pleasure. Now 
was the English theatre at the height of its glory and repu- 
tation. Dramatic authors of the first excellence and eminent 
actors equally abounded ; every year produced a number of 
new plays ; nay, so great was the passion for show or repre- 
sentation, that it was the fashion for the nobility to cele- 
brate their weddings, birthdays, and other occasions of 
rejoicing, with masks and interludes, which were exhibited 
with surprising expense ; the king, queen, and court fre- 
quently performing in those represented in the royal palaces, 
and all the nobility being actors in their own private 
houses. 

This universal eagerness for theatrical productions con- 
tinued during the whole reign of King James, and great 
part of Charles I., till puritanism, which had long opposed 
them as wicked and diabolical, at length obtained the upper 
hand, and finally effected a total suppression of all plays and 
playhouses. Their fate was thus decided on the 1 1'th day 
of February, 1647, when an ordinance was issued, whereby 
all players, of every description, were declared to be rogues, 
and liable to be punished as such, by whipping and im- 
prisonment ; all the playhouses were directed to be pulled 
down and demolished ; and a penalty of five shillings was 
imposed on every person who should be present at a dra- 
matic entertainment. Of the several actors at that time 
employed in the theatres, the greater part went immediately 
into the army, and, as might be expected, took part with 
their sovereign, whose predilection for their profession had 
been shown in many instances previously to the open rup- 
ture between him and his people. 

In the winter of 1648 the surviving dependants on the 
drama, urged by necessity, ventured again to act some 
plays at the Cockpit ; but were soon interrupted by the 
soldiers, who took them into custody in the midst of one of 
their performances, and committed them to prison ; after 
which ineffectual attempt, we hear no more of any public 
exhibicion for some time. At particular festivals, however, 
they were allowed to divert ihe public at the Red Bull, and 
occasionally to entertain some of the nobility at their country- 
houses ; but this was not always without interruption. A 
slender and precarious supnort was all that the unfortunate 
*Bb 



290 ENGLISH DRAMA. 

actors could obtain ; and many of them, in this emergency, 
drew forth and published the manuscript plays in their 
possession, which might not otherwise have ever seen the 
light. 

Amid the gloom of fanaticism, and while the royal cause 
was considered desperate. Sir William Davenant, without 
molestation, exhibited entertainments of declamation and 
music, after the manner of the ancients, at Rutland-house ; 
and in 1658 he removed to the Cockpit, in Drury-lane, 
where he performed until the eve of the Restoration. On 
the occurrence of this most fortunate event for the players, 
the king granted two patents, one to Sir William Davenant, 
who, before the civil wars broke out, had procured a patent 
from Charles I. ; and the other to Thomas KiUigrew, a per- 
son who had rendered himself acceptable to his sovereign 
as much by his vices, follies, and wit, as by his attachment 
to him in his distress. Davenant's actors were called the 
Duke's Company, and KiUigrew's the King's Servants. 
Ten of the latter were placed on the royal household estab- 
lishment, having each ten yards of scarlet cloth with a 
proper quantity of lace allowed them for liveries ; and in 
their warrants from the lord chamberlain they were styled 
gentlemen of the great chamber. The renovated avidity of 
the public for stage performances sufficiently recompensed 
the expectations of managers, actors, and authors ; but in 
1665 the plague broke out in London with great violence ; 
and in the succeeding year the fire which destroyed the 
metropolis suddenly arrested the progress of the drama. 

After a discontinuance of eighteen months, both houses 
were again opened at Christmas, 1666, when the miseries 
occasioned by the plague and the fire were both forgotten, 
and public diversions were pursued with as much eagerness 
as ever. Till the Restoration, no woman had been seen 
upon the English stage ; the female characters having 
always been performed by boys, or by young men of an 
effeminate aspect, which probably induced Shakspeare ta 
make so few of his plays dependent upon them. The prin- 
cipal characters of his women are innocence and simplicity ; 
such as Desdemona and Ophelia ; and his specimen of fond- 
ness and virtue in Portia is very short. But the power of 
real and beautiful women was now added to the other attrac- 
tions of the stage ; and all the capital plays of Shakspeare, 



ENGLISH DRAMA. 291 

Fletcher, and Ben Jonson were divided between the two 
companies, by their own alternate choice, and the approba- 
tion of the court. Both were at first successful, but after 
the novelty of the several performers had faded, and their 
stock of plays had become familiar, the Duke's Company 
felt their inferiority by the slender audiences they were able 
to attract. This consideration induced Sir William Dave- 
nant to try the effects of a more magnificent theatre, which 
he built in Dorset-gardens, and it was here that his successor 
first added spectacle and music to action, and introduced a 
novel species of plays called dramatic operas, set off with 
the most expensive decorations, and with the best voices 
and dancers. Of the progress of this species of entertain- 
ment, and the subsequent introduction of the Italian opera, 
we have already spoken in our twenty-first chapter, under 
the head Music. 

In January, 1671-2, the playhouse in Drury-lane took 
fire, and was entirely demolished, together with fifty or sixty 
of the adjoining houses. After an interval of several years, 
the proprietors rebuilt it, employing for this purpose Sir 
Christopher Wren, the most celebrated architect of his time, 
whose plan was equally calculated for the. advantage of the 
performers and the spectators. It was opened on the 26th of 
March, 1674, on which occasion a prologue and epilogue 
were delivered, both written by Dry den, in which the plain- 
ness and want of ornament in the house,'as compared with 
that in Dorset-gardens, v.'ere attributed to the express direc- 
tions of his majesty ; who, it is well known, did not think 
the concerns of the stage beneath his notice. The Duke's 
Theatre, however, continued to be frequented, the victory 
of sound and show over sense and reason being as com- 
plete at this period as it has often been since ; but the great 
expenses of this establishment diminished their gains to such 
a degree, that after a few years both parties imagined it 
would be more advantageous to unite their interests together, 
and open but one house. 

This junction occurred in 1682 ; but though the patents 
were united, the profits to the proprietors and performers 
seem not to have been increased. At this period the play 
began at four o'clock, and vve are told the ladies of fashion 
used to take the evening air in Hyde-park, after the repre- 
sentation. It w^as to this company, in the year 1690, that 



292 ENGLISH DRAMA. 

old Gibber, after a probation of three-quarters of a year, 
was admitted as a performer in the lowest rank, at a salary 
of ten shillings a-week. 

An association ot the principal actors being entered into, 
with Betterton at the head of it, they procured a license 
from King William to act in a separate theatre, which they 
opened in Lincoln's-Inn-fields, on the 30th of April, 1695, 
with Congreve's new comedy of Love for Love, which had 
such extraordinary success, that scarcely any other play was 
acted there till the end of the season. So great at this period 
was the reputation of Congreve, that the company offered 
him a whole share upon condition he would give them a new 
play every year. This offer he accepted, and received the 
advantage, though he never fulfilled the condition ; for it 
was three years before he produced The Mourning Bride, 
and three more before he gave them The Way of the World. 
After one or two years' success, the audiences began to 
decline, and it was again found that two rival theatres were 
more than the town was able to support. But while they 
were contending against each other with the most eager 
hostility, an enemy appeared, who, with considerable ability, 
and all the severity of rigid puritanism, attacked all the 
dramatic entertainments of the day, on account of their pro- 
faneness and immorality. 

This was the celebrated Jeremy Collier, who in 1697 
published a bitter invective against plays, performers, and 
dramatic writers, and, having some truth and justice on his 
side, won much of the public opinion in his favour, and 
imposed no small difficulty on those defenders of the stage 
who attempted to answer his charges. Among those cham- 
pions were enlisted Congreve, Vanbrugh, Dry den, Dennis, 
and others, who opposed their assailant with sufficient wit 
and humour, but without confuting the objections he had 
started, either against themselves individually, or against 
the stage in general. Dryden found himself so hard pressed 
that, as Dr. Johnson notices in his life of him, " Like other 
hunted animals, he stood at bay, and when he could not 
disown the grossness of one of his plays, he declared that 
he knew not any law that prescribed morality to a comic 
•poet." " The controversy," says Gibber, " had a very 
wholesome effect upon those who wrote after this time. 
They were now a great deal more upon their guard ; inde- 



ENGLISH DRAMA. 293 

cencies were no longer wit ; and by degrees the fair sex 
came again to fill the boxes on the first day of a new comedy, 
without fear or censure." To forward the reformation of 
the stage, prosecutions were commenced against some of the 
performers for repeating profane and indecent words. Seve- 
ral were found guilty ; and Betterton and Mrs. Bracegirdle 
were actually fined. From this period may be dated the 
introduction of that more refined taste which has done so 
much credit to the British theatre. 

Sir John Vanbrugh, who had purchased Betterton's 
license and interest, built a new and magnificent playhouse 
in the Haymarket, and having associated himself with Mr. 
Congreve, opened it in April, 1705, with an Italian opera, 
which did not meet the success expected. With that happy 
facility which distinguished him in writing, Sir John imme- 
diately produced no less than four new pieces ; which, how- 
ever, did not bring the theatre into vogue, though they suf- 
ficed to establish the fact, that he was a better dramatist than 
architect. His comedies appeared under manifest disadvan- 
tage, the edifice being a vast triumphal piece of architecture, 
wholly unfit for every purpose of convenience ; and the 
massive columns, gilder" cornices, and lofty roof availed but 
little, when scarcely one word in ten could be heard. " The 
extraordinary and superfluous space," says Gibber, " occa- 
sioned such an undulation from the voice of every actor, 
that generally what they said sounded like the gabbling of 
so many people in the lofty aisles of a cathedral. The tone 
of a trumpet, or the swell of a singer's holding note, 'tis 
true, might be sweetened by it ; but the articulate sounds 
of a speaking voice were drowned by the hollow reverbera- 
tions of one word upon another." To these disadvantages 
might be added the situation, which was at that period much 
too remote for the usual frequenters of the theatre, a com- 
bination of circumstances which offered so little prospect 
of success, that at the end of a few months Mr. Congreve 
gave up his share. Sir John Vanbrugh followed his example, 
and several changes occurred, until a dispute among some 
of the proprietors occasioned the theatre to be shut up by 
an order of the lord chamberlain. 

On the death of Queen Anne, in 1714, Sir Richard Steele 
procured her name to be inserted in the new patent of Drury- 
lane theatre, a connexion which lasted many years, to the 
Bb2 



294 ENGLISH DRAMA. 

advantage of all the parties concerned. No sooner was the 
prohibition removed from the Haymarket, and dramatic per- 
formances again allowed at two theatres, than Mr. Rich, 
the manager of that in Lincoln's-Inn-fields, soon found him- 
self unable to compete successfully with his rivals. In this 
emergency, betaking himself to a species of entertainment 
which has always been considered contemptible, and always 
encouraged, he introduced pantomimes upon the stage, sup- 
porting these exotic productions by the fertiUty of his 
invention and the excellence of his own performance in 
Harlequin. To the disgrace of pubUc taste, he frequently 
obtained more money by these ridiculous and paltry per- 
formances, than all the sterling merit of the rival theatre 
was able to acquire. 

The number of London playhouses was increased in 1729, 
by the addition of one in Goodman's-fields, which met with 
great opposition from several grave merchants and divines, 
by whose influence and representations the design was aban- 
doned, and the building closed in the outset of a career that 
promised to be very successful. During the following six 
or seven years we find nothing in theatrical affairs worthy 
of particular record. Although the itage was not supported 
by any actors of transcendent merit, yet this period seems 
to be marked by a spirit of more than usual enterprise. 
The failure of the theatre in Goodman's-fields had not 
extinguished the expectations of another schemer, who soli- 
cited and obtained a subscription for building a magnificent 
playhouse in that part of the town, which, in spite of all 
opposition, was completed and opened in October, 1732, 
three years after which the proprietor quitted it, and removed 
to the old building in Lincoln's-Inn-fields. 
I While so many rival companies were thus contending for 
public favour, and none of them in a flourishing state, the 
imprudence and extravagance of a gentleman who possessed 
genius, wit, and humour in a high degree, obliged him to 
strike out a new species of entertainment, which in the end 
produced an extraordinary change in the dramatic system. 
With the supposed view of revenging some indignities 
which had been thrown upon him by people in power, the 
celebrated Henry Fielding determined to amuse the town at 
their expense ; for which purpose he collected a company 
of performers, who exhibited at the theatre in the Haymarket, 



ENGLISH DRAMA. 295 

under the whimsical title of the Great Mogul's Com- 
pany of Comedians. The piece he represented was PaS' 
quin, which was acted to crowded audiences for fifty follow- 
ing nights. His success, however, was only temporary ; 
the company was disbanded, and the manager, who seldom 
attended to the voice of economy, was left no richer than 
when he began. 

Galled by the severity of the satire in Fielding's pieces, 
the minister meditated a severe revenge on the stage, and 
in 1737 procured the Licensing Act to be passed, which 
forbade the representation of any performance not pre- 
viously sanctioned by the lord chamberlain. It also took 
from the crown the power of licensing any more theatres, 
and inflicted hea^'y penalties on those who should contra- 
vene the regulations of the statute. Many pamphlets were 
published against the principle of this unpopular act, which 
was combated by the united force of wit, ridicule, and argu- 
ment. It passed, however, into a law, and relieved the 
then existing and all future ministers from any apprehen- 
sions of similar annoyance on the part of dramatic writers. 

No date can be deemed moje remarkable in theatrical 
annals than the year 1741, when an actor appeared whose 
genius seemed intended to adorn, and whose abilities were 
destined to support, the stage. This was the celebrated 
Mr. Garrick, who, after experiencing some slights from the 
managers of Drury-lane and Covent- garden, determined to 
make trial of his theatrical qualifications at the playhouse 
in Goodman's-fields. The part he chose for his first 
appearance was that of Richard the Third, in which he 
displayed so clear a conception of the character, such 
power of execution, and a union of talents so varied and 
unexpected, that his reputation soon became fixed as the 
most perfect actor of his own or any time, and Goodman's- 
fields, which had only been frequented by the people of the 
city, became thronged with all ranks of visitants from 
every quarter of the town. At this theatre he remained 
but one season, when he removed to Drury-lane, where he 
not only contmued to increase his professional reputation, 
but acquired a character for prudence and discretion which 
pointed him out as a proper person to succeed to the man- 
agement of the theatre a few years after. From this period 
it began to flourish. Mr. Garrick's admirable performances 



296 ENGLISH DRAMA. 

ensured full houses ; while the industry and attention of 
his partner, Mr. Lacy, contributed to retain the public 
favour. B}' the advice of his physicians Mr. Garrick went 
abroad in 1763, in order to relax from the fatigues of his 
profession. After an absence of two seasons he returned 
to the stage, where he remained till 1776, and died in 1779, 
descending to the grave with the unfeigned concern of his 
numerous friends and connexions, and the universal admi- 
ration of the public, who felt how deeply he was entitled to 
their respect, not only for his incomparable talents, but for 
the decency and propriety which he had introduced into the 
dramatic performances. 

In a summary of the stage, however brief, we cannot pass 
over Mr. Foote, who, having obtained a patent, rebuilt the 
theatre in the Haymarket, which was opened in May, 1767, 
and, by the assistance of his wit, personalities, mimicry, 
and combined talents as an author and an actor, proved emi- 
nently successful, and placed him in easy circumstances. 
Various considerations, however, induced him to transfer 
his interest to Mr. Colman, the first season of whose man- 
agement (1777), introduced to a London audience three 
performers of great merit in their respective departments 
of the drama ; we mean Miss Farren, afterward Countess 
of Derby, Mr. Henderson, and Mr. Edwin. In the follow- 
ing year Mr. Bannister, jun., first appeared at the same 
theatre as Dick, in The Apprentice. He was engaged the 
following season at Drury-lane as a tragedian, and was a 
pretty successful representative of Hamlet, Romeo, 6cc. ; 
but the true bent of his genius being developed by the per- 
formance of Don Ferolo Whiskerandos in Tke Critic^ he 
laid aside the buskin for the sock. 

Not even the first appearance of our British Roscius 
forms a more notable epoch in the annals of the drama 
than the 12th of October, 1782, when Mrs. Siddons, froni 
Bath, by far the most distinguished tragic actress of modern 
times, electrified the town by her performance of Isabella. 
Of this lady's surpassing requisites for the stage, both 
physical and mental, it is not our purpose to speak. To 
those who have seen her, description and eulogium are un- 
necessary ; to those who have not, they would prove utterly 
inadequate to convey even a faint idea of her unrivalled 
mciits. In the following vear her brother, Mr. John PhiUp 



w 



ENGLISH DRAMA. 297 



Kemble, made his debut in Hamlet, of which he presented 
the most finished picture that had been exhibited since the 
days of Garrick. This period, indeed, was fertile in the pro- 
duction of eminent performers. Mr. John Johnstone ap- 
peared at Covent- garden in 1783, as the hero in the comic 
opera of Lionel and Clarissa; and, in 1785, Mrs. Jordan 
came out at Drury-lane in the Country Girl. 

Mr. John Palmer, in June, 1787, opened a new play- 
house, called the Royalty Theatre, near Wellclose-square, 
which had been built by subscription on a spacious and 
elegant scale, under the idea that the justices of the Tower 
Hamlets were empowered by the royalty of that fortress, 
to license the performance of plays ; but it proved to be 
very different, for, after one night's performance, the theatre 
immediately closed, and the only entertainments subse- 
quently allowed were burlettas, dances, and pantomimes, 
in the manner of those performed at Sadler's Wells and 
other minor theatres. 

On the 17th of June, 1789, the King's theatre in the 
Haymarket was destroyed by fire ; and in December of the 
following year Mr. Munden, from the Chester theatre, 
was engaged at Covent-garden, where he made his appear- 
ance in the very dissimilar parts of Sir Francis Gripe in 
The Busy Body, and Jemmy Jumps in The Farmer. At 
the same theatre, in the year 1791, Mr. Fawcett performed 
for the first time in the character of Caleb. 

Mr. Harris, the proprietor of Covent-garden theatre, 
having expended 25,000^. on the extensive improvements 
in the building, and considerably enlarged his company, 
opened it in September, 1792, at advanced prices, requiring 
65. for the boxes, and 3s. 6d. for the pit ; a demand which 
gave rise to the memorable and disgraceful disturbance 
vulgarly denominated the 0. P. row. The proprietor had 
an indisputable right to offer his services to the public on 
tenns proportionate to the capital he had embarked ; and 
the result proved that his demand, so far from being exor- 
bitant, was not even fairly remunerative. Many managers 
in former times had ruined themselves in ministering to the 
amusements of the town, and the public probably thought 
that so good and long-estabUshed a custom ought not to be 
abolished. 

In 1793 the proprietors of the Drury-lane patent not 



298 ENGLISH DRAMA. 

having been able to finish their new house at the customary 
time for conunencing the season, nor being able to occupy 
the Pantheon in Oxford-street, which was consumed by fire 
on the 14th of January, 1792, resorted to the Uttle theatre 
in the Haymarket, where a dreadful catastrophe occurred 
on the 3d of February, 1794. The play having been com- 
manded by their majesties, the crowd was so great at the 
pit-door, that when it was opened a gentleman was thrown 
down the stairs, and the others who fell over him were 
trampled upon by those who continued still rushing in. 
The groans and screams of the dying and maimed were 
truly shocking, while those who were thus treading their 
fellow-creatures to death had it not in their power to recede, 
or avoid the mischief they were doing. Fifteen persons 
of both sexes were killed, and nearly twenty others, some 
of whom did not survive many days, suffered material in- 
jury in bruises and broken limbs. 

The splendid new playhouse in Drury-lane, built by Mr. 
Holland, opened for theatrical performances on the 21st of 
April, 1794, on which occasion Mr. Charles Kemble first 
appeared before a London audience in the part of Malcom. 
From this time nothing material occurred in stage-history 
till the year 1796, when great curiosity was excited by a 
notice from Mr. Ireland, of Norfolk-street, Strand, that 
many original MSS. of Shakspeare had been discovered in 
an old trunk. Among these was the pretended play of 
Vortigern, which was represented at Drury-lane to a most 
crowded and respectable audience on the 2d of April, and 
deservedly condemned as a miserable imposition. In An 
Authentic Account of the Shaksperian Manuscripts, published 
soon afterward, Mr. Ireland avowed himself the author of 
the whole, and unblushingly seemed to glory in having suc- 
ceeded to a certain extent in his endeavours to deceive the 
public, more particularly as the fabrication had received the 
sanction of many learned doctors, who maintained it to be 
genuine. 

After the performance of Ijady Teazle, in the School for 
Scandal, on the 8th of April, 1797, Miss Farren bade fare- 
well to the stage, and soon afterward became Countess of 
Derby. On the 2d of August in the following year, Mr. 
John Palmer suddenly expired on the Liverpool stage while 
performing the part of The Stranger. 



ENGLISH DRAMA. 299 

The year 1 800 was rendered memorable by an attempt 
to assassinate King George III. at Drury-lane theatre, on 
the I5ih of May. His majesty had commanded the per- 
formances of the night, and at the moment when he entered 
his box, a man in the pit, near the orchestra, suddenly 
stood up and discharged a pistol at the royal person. On 
hearing its report, his majesty, who had advanced about 
four steps from the door, stopped and stood firmly. The 
house was immediately in an uproar, and the cry of " seize 
him!" burst from every part of the theatre. The king, 
apparently not in the least disconcerted, came nearly to the 
front of the box, waving his hand to the queen to keep 
back, while he exclaimed, " Only a squib — a squib — they 
are firing squibs." After the intended assassin had been 
taken away, the queen came forward, and in great agitation 
courtesied to the audience, when she looked at the king and 
asked if they should stay. " We will not stir, but stay the 
entertainment out," replied the king. All the princesses, 
except Elizabeth, fainted away. As soon as the audience 
had ascertained that the culprit was in safe custody, their 
indignation gave way to loyal raptures at the escape of 
their revered sovereign. God save the King, being univer- 
sally demanded, was sung by all the vocal performers, and 
encored amid the enthusiastic plaudits of the assemblage. 
The culprit, whose name was John Hatfield, was subse- 
quently tried for high-treason, but acquitted as a lunatic, 
and ordered to be confined for life. 

And here, with the termination of the century, we shall 
close our superficial retrospect of the stage,* not only 
because we wish to devote our brief remaining space to 
some playhouse notices of a more interesting nature, but 
because a continuance of these theatrical records to the 
present time would be little more than a recapitulation of 
dates with which the majority of our readers must be already 
conversant. 

♦ Mostly compiled and abridged from Hawkin's Origin of the English 
Drama— Gibber's History of the Stage, continued by Victor— but more 
especially and more freely from the Introduction to the Blographia 
Dramatica, London, 1812. 



300 PLAYHOUSE NOTICES. 



CHAPTER XXVI. 



Playhouse Notices^ chiefly allusive to the Elizabethan Era.* 

"Support the stage, 
Which so declines that shortly we may see, 
Players and plays reduced to second infancy." 

Dryden. 

In the time of Shakspeare, who commenced as a dramatic 
writer in 1592, there were no less than ten theatres open ; 
but most, if not all, of his plays were perfonned either at the 
Globe, in Bankside, or at the theatre in Blackfriars. Both 
belonged to the same company of comedians, viz. His 
Majesty's Servants ; which title they assumed after a license 
had been granted to them by King James, in 1603, having 
before that period been called the Servants of the Lord 
Chamberlain. 

Many of our ancient dramatic pieces were performed, as 
already stated, in the yards of carriers' inns, in which, at 
the beginning of Queen Elizabeth's reign, the comedians, 
who then first united themselves in companies, erected an 
occasional stage. The form of these temporary playhouses 
seems to be preserved in our modern theatres, the galleries 
in both being ranged over each other on three sides of the 
building. The small rooms under the lowest of these gal- 
leries answer to our present boxes ; and it is observable that 
these, even in theatres which were subsequently built ex- 
pressly for dramatic purposes, still retained their old name, 
and are frequently called rooms by our ancient writers. 
The yard bears a sufficient resemblance to the pits as at 
present in use. We may suppose the stage to have been 
raised on the fourth side of this area, with its back to the 
gateway of the inn, at which the money for admission was 
taken. Hence, in the middle of the Globe, and I suppose 
of the other pubUc theatres of this period, there was an 
open yard or area, where the common people stood to see 

« From Mr. Malone's supplement to his edition of Shakspeare. 



PLAYHOUSE NOTICES. 301 

the exhibition, from which circumstance they are called by 
Shakspeare groundlings, and by Ben Jonson 'the under 
standing gentlemen of the ground.' 

" The galleries or scaffolds, as they are sometimes termed, 
and that part of the house which in private theatres was 
named the pit, seem to have been at the same > price ; and 
probably in the houses of reputation, such as the Globe, 
and that in Blackfriars, the price of admission into those 
parts of the theatre was 6d., while m some meaner play- 
nouses it was only Id., in others only 2d. The price of 
admission into the best rooms or boxes was, I believe, in 
Shakspeare's time, 1*. ; though afterward it appears to 
have risen to 2s. and 25. 6d. 

" From several passages in our old plays, we learn that 
spectators were admitted on the stage, and that the critics 
and wits of the time usually sat there. Some were placed 
on the ground, others sat on stools, of which the price was 
either Gd. or l^., according, I suppose, to the commodious- 
ness of the situation ; and they were attended by pages, 
who furnished thfm with pipes and tobacco, which was 
smoked here as well as in other parts of the house. Yet it 
should seem that persons were suffered to sit on the stage 
only in the private playhouses, such as Blackfriars, &c., 
where the audience was more select and of a higher class ; 
and that in the Globe and other public theatres no such 
license was permitted. 

" The stage was strewed with rushes, which, as we leam 
from Hentzner and Caius de Ephemera, was in the time of 
Shakspeare the usual covering of floors in England. The 
curtain, which hangs in the front of the present stage, 
drawn up by lines and pulleys, though not a modern in- 
vention, for it was used by Inigo Jones, in the masks at 
court, was yet an apparatus to which the simple mechan- 
ism of our ancient theatres had not arrived, for in them the 
curtains opened in the middle, and were drawn backwards 
and forwards on an iron rod. In some playhouses they 
were woollen, in others made of silk. Towards the rear 
of the stage there appears to have been a balcony, the plat- 
form of which was probably eight or ten feet from the 
ground. From hence in many of our old plays, parts of the 
dialogue were spoken ; and in the front of this balcony 
curtains likewise were hung. 

Cc 



302 PLAYHOUSE NOTICES. 

A doubt has been entertained whether in our ancient thea« 
tres there were side and other scenes. It is certain that in 
the year 1605 Inigo Jones exhibited an entertainment at Ox- 
ford, in which moveable scenes were used ; but he appears to 
have introduced several pieces of machinery in the masks at 
court, with which undoubtedly the public theatres were unac- 
quainted. A passage which has been produced from one of 
the old comedies proves, it must be owned, that even these 
were furnished with some pieces of machinery, which were 
used when it was requisite to exhibit the descent of some god 
or saint ; but from all the contemporary accounts, I am inclined 
to believe, that the mechanism of our ancient stage seldom 
w^ent beyond a painted chair or a trap door, and that few, 
if any of them, had any moveable scenes. They were fur- 
nished with curtains, and a single scene composed of tapes- 
try, which were sometimes, perhaps, ornamented with pic- 
tures ; and some passages in our old dramas incline me to 
think that when tragedies were performed, the stage was 
hung with black. In the early parts at least of Shakspeare's 
acquaintance with the theatre, the want of scenery seems 
to have been supplied by the simple expedient of writing 
the names of the different places where the scene was laid 
in the progress of the play, which were disposed in such a 
manner as to be visible to the audience.* 

" The stage was formerly lighted by small circular 
wooden frames, furnished with candles, eight of which 
were hung up, four at either side ; and these continued 
to be used till they were removed by Mr. Garrick, who, on 
his return from France, first introduced the present com- 
modious method of illuminating the stage by lights not 
visible to the audience. Many of the companies of players 
were formerly so thin, that one person played two or three 
parts ; and a battle, on which the fate of an empire was 
supposed to depend, was decided by half a dozen com- 

* The following humorous raillery of Sir Philip Sidney would lead 
us to infer that there were no scenes. " Now you shall see three ladies 
walke to gather flowers, and then we must believe the stage to be a 
garden. By-and-by we heare news of a shipwracke in the same place, 
then we are to bUme if we accept it not for a rocke. Upon the back of 
that comes out a hideous monster with fire and smoke; then the mise- 
rable beholders are bound to take it for a cave ; while in the mean tima 
two armies fly in, represented with four swordes and two bucklers, and 
then what hard heart will not receive it for a pitched field "" 



PLAYHOUSE NOTICES. 303 

batants. It appears to have been a common practice in 
their mock engagements, to discharge small pieces of ord- 
nance on the stage. Before the exhibition began three 
flourishes or pieces of music were played ; or, in ancient 
language, there were three soundings. Music was likewise 
played between the acts ; the instruments chiefly used being 
trumpets, cornets, and hautboys. The band, which did 
not consist of more than five or six performers, sat in an 
upper balcony, over what is now termed the stage-box. 

" The person who spoke the prologue was ushered in by 
trumpets, and usually wore a long black velvet cloak, which 
I suppose was best suited to a supplicatory address. Of 
this custom, whatever might have been its origin, some 
traces remained till very lately ; a black coat having been, 
if I mistake not, the constant stage habiliment of our 
modern prologue speakers. The dress of the ancient pro- 
logue speaker is still retained in the play exhibited in Ham- 
let, before the king and court of Denmark. The performers 
of male characters generally wore periwigs, which in the 
age of Shakspeare were not in common use. It appears 
from a passage in Puttenham's Art of English Poesy , 1589, 
that vizards were on some occasions used by the actors of 
those days ; and it may be inferred from a scene in one of 
Shakspeare's comedies that they were sometimes worn by 
those who performed female characters ; but this, I imagine, 
was very rare. Some of the female part of the audience 
likewise appeared in masks. 

" The practice of exhibiting two dramas successively on 
the same evening does not appear to have been established 
before the time of the Restoration. But though the audi- 
ences were not gratified by the representation of more than 
one drama in the same day, the entertainment was diversi- 
fied, and the populace diverted, by tumbling, sleight of hand, 
and morris-dancing, a mixture not much more heterogenous 
than that with which we are now frequently presented — a 
tragedy and a farce. 

" The amusements of our ancestors before the com- 
mencement of the play were of various kinds : such as 
reading, playing at cards, drinking ale, or smoking tobacco. 
It was a common practice to carry table-books to the theatre ; 
and either from curiosity or enmity to the author, or some 
other motive, to write down passages of the play ; and 



304 PLAYHOUSE NOTICES. 

there is reason to believe that the imperfect and mutilated 
copies of some of Shakspeare's dramas, which are yet 
extant, were taken down in short-hand during the exhibi- 
tion. At the end of the piece the actors in noblemen's 
houses and in taverns, where plays were frequently per- 
formed, prayed for the health and prosperity of their pa- 
trons ; and in the public theatre for the king and queen. 
Hence probably, as Mr. Steevens has observed, the addition 
of Vivant rex et regina to the modem playbills. 

" Plays began at one o'clock in the afternoon, and the 
exhibition was usually finished in two hours. Even in 
1667 they commenced at three. When Gossen wrote his 
School of Abuse, in 1579, it seems the dramatic entertain- 
ments were usually exhibited on Sundays. Afterward they 
were performed on that and other days indiscriminately. 
The exhibition of plays on Sundays had not been abolished 
in the third j'^ear of king Charles I. 

" The modes of conveyance to the theatre, anciently as 
at present, seem to have been various, some going in coaches, 
others on horseback, and many by water. To the Globe 
playhouse the company probably were conveyed by water; 
to that in Blackfriars the gentry went either in coaches or 
on horseback, and the common people on foot. In an epi- 
gram of Sir John Davis, the practice of riding to the theatre 
is ridiculed as a piece of affectation or vanity, and therefore 
we may presume that it was not general. 

" Mr. Oldys, in one of his manuscripts, intimates that dra- 
matic poets had anciently their benefits on the first day that 
a new play was represented ; a regulation which would have 
been very favourable to some of the ephemeral productions 
of modern times. From Davenant we learn that in the 
latter part of the reign of Queen Elizabeth the poet had his 
benefit on the second day. It is certain that the giving 
authors the profit of the third exhibition of their play, 
which seems to have been the usual mode during almost the 
whole of the last century, was an established custom in the 
year 1612 ; for Decker, in the prologue to one of his come- 
dies printed in that year, speaks of the poet's third day. 
The unfortunate Otway had no more than one benefit on 
the production of a new play, and this too he was some- 
times obliged to mortgage before the piece was acted. 
Southern was the first dramatic writer who obtained the 



PLAYHOUSE NOTICES. 305: 

emoluments arising from two representations ; and to Far- 
quhar, in the year 1700, the benefit of a third was granted. 
The castomary price of a copy of a play in the time of Shaks- 
peare seems to have been twenty nobles, or 61. I3s. Ad. 
The play, when printed, was sold for 6^. ; and the usual 
present from a patrons, in return for a dedication, was 40s. 
On the first day of exhibiting a new play, the prices of 
admission appear to have been raised ; and this seems to 
have been occasionally practised on the benefit nights of 
authors, to the end of the last century. No less than three 
plays of Ben Jonson were damned ; and Fletcher's Faith- 
ful Shepherdess., and The Knight of the Burning Pestky 
written by him and Beaumont, underwent the same fate. 

" It is not easy to ascertain what were the emoluments 
of a successful actor in the time of Shakspeare. They had 
not then annual benefits, as at present. The performers 
at each theatre seem to have shared the profits arising either 
from each day's exhibition, or from the whole season, among 
them. From Ben Jonson's Poetaster we learn that one — 
either of the performers or proprietors — had seven shares 
and a half, but of what integral sum is not mentioned. 
From the prices of admission into our ancient theatres, 
which have been already mentioned, I imagine the utmost 
that the sharers of the Globe playhouse could have received 
on any one day was about 35/. So lately as the year 
1685, Shadwell received by his third day, on the representa- 
tion of the Squire of Alsatia, 130/.; which Downes, the 
prompter, says was the greatest receipt that had ever been 
taken at Drury-lane playhouse at single prices. It appears 
irom the MSS. of Lord Stanhope, treasurer of the cham- 
bers to King James L, that the customary fee paid to John 
Heminge and his company, for the performance of a play 
at court, was twenty nobles, or 6/. 13s. 4,d. ; and Edward 
AUeyn mentions in his diary that he once had so slender an 
audience in his theatre called the Fortune, that the whole 
receipts of the house amounted to no more than 3/. and 
some odd shillings. 

" Thus scanty and meager were the apparatus and accom- 
modations of our ancient theatres, on which those dramas 
were first exhibited that have since engaged the attention 
of so many learned men, and delighted so many thousand 
spectators. Yet even then, we are told by a writer of that 
Cc2 



306 PLAYHOUSE NOTICES. 

age, ' that dramatic poesy was so lively expressed and 
represented on the public stage and theatres of this city, as 
Rome in the age of her pomp and glory never saw it better 
performed, in respect of the action and art, nor of the cost 
and sumptuousness.' " 

We subjoin the foUow^ing salaries of actors and prices of 
admission to our theatres in the year 1733, in order that the 
reader who is curious in such matters may compare them 
with those that prevailed at the time of Shakspeare, and 
the infinitely more liberal ones of modern days. In the 
year we have just mentioned, a difference having arisen 
between the managers and actors, most of the latter set up 
for themselves at the little theatre in the Haymarket^ 
Upon this the managers published the following account 
of their salaries, to show the public how little room they 
had to mutiny : — " To Mr. CoUey Gibber, from the time of 
letting his share till he left the stage, 121. I2s. per week. 
Mr. Theophilus Gibber, 5/., and his wife's whole salary till 
her death, without doing the company any service during 
the greatest part of the winter ; and his own also during 
the time of his being ill, who performed but seldom after 
Christmas. Mr. Mills, jun., 3/., under the same circum- 
stances with regard to his wife. Mr. Mills, sen., U. per 
day for two hundred days certain, and a benefit clear of all 
charges. Mr. Johnston, 51. Mr. Miller, 5/., paid him 
eight weeks before he acted, besides a present of ten 
guineas. Mr. Harper, 4^., and a present of ten guineas. 
Mr. Griffin, 4Z. and a present. Mr. Shepard, 3/. Mr, 
Hallam, for himself and father, though the latter is of little 
or no service, 3/. Mrs. Heron, 51. raised from 40s. last 
winter, yet refused to play several parts assigned her; 
and acted but seldom this season. Mrs. Butler, 3Z. per 
week. By these and other salaries, with the incident 
charges (besides clothes and scenes), the patentees are at 
the daily charge of 49Z. odd money each acting day." 

Till about the same time the prices at the theatre were 
4*. the boxes, 2^. Gd. the pit, Is. 6d. the first gallery, and 
Is. the second, except upon the first run of a new play or 
pantomime ; when the boxes were 55., the pit 3*., the first 
gallery 2s., and the second Is. ; but Fleetwood thought fit 
to raise the prices for an old pantomime, which was revived 
without expense. This produced a riot for several nights. 



PLAYHOUSE NOTICES. 307 

and at last a number deputed by the pit had an interview 
with the manager in the green-room, where it was agreed 
that che advanced prices should be constantly paid at the 
doors, and that such persons as did not choose to stay the 
entertainment should have the advanced part of their money 
returned. This was a very advantageous agreement for 
the manager ; because, when the audience had once paid 
their money and were seated, very few went out at the end 
of the play and demanded their advance ; so that at last it 
settled in the quiet payment of the full and increased price. 
Thus matters remained until nearly our own times, when 
two further advances took place, and prices may be said to 
ftave reached their maximum; for it may be safely pre- 
dicted that if any further alterations occur, the managers 
will find it more advantageous to reduce than augment the 
rates of admission to the theatre. The stage is a luxury 
which will not bear more than a certain degree of taxation ; 
and as the government has recently found that the reduc- 
tion of a high impost often increases the receipt, it may be 
well worth the while of our theatrical patentees to try the 
effect of a similar experiment. Their buildings are so 
large that they have but to fill them, even at reduced rates, 
in order to ensure an abundant remuneration. 



Slight and superficial as our narrow limits have com- 
pelled us to make this retrospect of the drama, it is sufficient 
to warrant and confirm the few general observations with 
which we shall conclude our volume. First, it will be ob- 
vious that not at any period of our dramatic history, even 
when the stage was most eagerly and widely supported by 
the popular taste, does theatrical property appear to have 
been either pleasant or profitable to its possessors. Mr. 
Garrick and a few others who have made fortunes in this 
line, offer no confutation of our remark ; they are the ex- 
ceptions that confirm the rule. The former, too, was the 
first actor of his day, and it will be found that at almost 
every period, and more especially in modern times, the per- 
fonner has been better remunerated than the proprietor. 
Even exclusive patents offer no securit}' for success. We 
have seen these patentees leaguing together, and still fail- 
ing to indemnify themselves. The precariousness of publio 
favour, the necessity, from the overgrown size of the build- 



308 PLAYHOUSE NOTICES. 

ings, of gratifying the eye rather than the ear, and of thus 
plunging into the never-ending expenses of scenery, dresses, 
and decorations, the frequent destructions by fire, competi- 
tion with rival theatres, and many minor drawbacks which 
we have not time to enumerate, seem to entail upon the 
unhappy proprietor inevitable vexation and annoyance, 
with very little contingent chance of adequate remunera- 
tion, and indeed with too great a probability of eventual 
ruin. Such, with few exceptions, having been the plight 
of theatrical property when the stage was more generally 
encouraged, it can hardly be much improved at the present 
juncture, when the people, although they have more money, 
have certainly less taste for theatrical representations than 
in former times. 

We have seen the drama, in its first rude attempts, con- 
verting the Bible, then a sealed book, into visible action and 
English dialogue, degraded by the incongruous accom- 
paniment of profane buffooneries, which would now scarcely 
be tolerated in the most vulgar booth at Bartholomew-fair. 
Even after the revival of literature, when the classic models 
of antiquity were well known in England, at least to the 
learned, they did not exercise the smallest influence upon 
our native drama, which, struggling slowly and painfully 
through the different phases of improvement, assumed suc- 
cessively the form of mysteries or miracles — moralities — 
interludes — masks, until the glorious reign of Elizabeth ; 
when, under the influence of the Reformation, which 
aroused and called up the public mind from its cloistered 
slumbers, the genius of Great Britain burst forth at once and 
in all directions, but more especially in that of the drama, 
with an intellectual might, majesty, and effulgence which 
have never been paralleled in any age or country. What 
era can produce such a list of illustrious dramatists as 
Shakspeare, Jonson, Beaumont and Fletcher, Marlow, 
Webster, Decker, Marston, Chapman, Heywood, Middle- 
ton, and Rowley] These writers, as has been well ob- 
served, " had something in them that savoured of the soil 
upon which they grew : they were not French, they were 
not Dutch, or German, or Greek, or Latin ; they were truly 
EngUsh. They did not look out of themselves to see what 
they should be ; they sought for truth and nature, and 
found them in themselves. They were not the spoiled 



PLAYHOUSE NOTICES. 309 

children of affectation and refinement, but a bold, vigorous, 
independent race of thinkers, with prodigious strength and 
energy, with none but natural grace, and heartfelt, unob- 
trusive delicacy. The mind of their country was great in 
them, and it prevailed."* 

Against this galaxy of dramatists it has been urged, as 
their greatest fault, that they degraded some of their finest 
tragedies by an admixture of comic characters, and even of 
gross buffoonery. The accusation is just, but the cause 
should be sought rather m the bad taste of the age than of 
the writers. No man, probably, knew better than Shaks- 
peare himself, that the sister muses preside over distinct 
departments of the drama, which can never be intermixed 
without destroying the character of both. Tragedy, founded 
upon the principle of human sensibility, employs pathos for 
its means, and purposes as its object, to inspire a horror of 
great crimes, a love of the sublime virtues. Comedy has 
for its basis the malicious pleasure that all men feel in 
seeing others exposed to ridicule. We view the faults of 
our neighbours with a mingled complacency and contempt, 
when their foibles are not serious enough to excite compas- 
sion, nor so revolting as to inspire hatred, nor sufficiently 
dangerous to excite alarm. If their weaknesses are painted 
with delicacy, they make us smile ; if they are presented to 
us in a striking, ludicrous, and unexpected light, they make 
us laugh. It would have been doubtless better could this 
inherent tendency to seize upon and enjoy whatever is 
ridiculous in others have been converted into a philosophical 
pity, but it has been found easier to make this malicious 
propensity serve as a corrective, and to smooth away the 
eccentricities and follies of one class by exposing them to 
the caustic ridicule of a second, just as we employ the 
sharp point of one diamond to polish another. 

Though somewhat faded in the lapse of time, and eclipsed 
by the death of our noblest dramatists, who threw not the 
mantle of their inspiration on their immediate successors, 
the glories of the Elizabethan era were by no means extin- 
guished, when the civil wars intervened, and the headlong 
torrent of puritanism swept away all that remained of taste 
and genius, and quenched the last spark of dramatic light 

* Hazlitt's Lectures, p 2. 



310 PLAYHOUSE NOTICES. - 

]Nor did it recover either its lost splendour or its English 
character when the Restoration revived the stage ; for 
French taste now prevailed in every thing, and our play- 
wrights working upon a foreign model, instead of trusting 
to the energies of native talent, transplanted into England 
the artificial, monotonous, and declamatory style of their 
continental neighbours. Their imitations and translations 
gave us turgidity and rant for tragedy, indecency and 
ribaldry for comic wit. The one was mock heroics, the 
other real vulgarity, and both were out of place, and out of 
nature. Of this vicious manner, Dryden's comedies and 
tragedies offer the fullest illustration. His vigorous intel- 
lect could not fail to produce occasional passages of great 
splendour, but not sufficient to redeem his general character 
as a dramatist, which is that of bombast and bathos, feeble- 
ness and filth. For the next hundred years after his death 
we had no tragic writer of any marked eminence ; and their 
art, with a few exceptions, contiimed to decline, until, in the 
growing distaste of the public for theatrical entertainments, 
and under the manifold discouragements to which writers 
for the stage were exposed, tragedy ceased to engage the 
attention of men of genius, and gradually sank into its 
present lamentable state, which may be almost called an 
extinction, so far as original productions are concerned. 

We need not follow the fortunes of comedy, which, under 
the influence of similar causes, has experienced the same 
decay, throwing off, indeed, in its downward progress, all 
the impurities by which it had been defiled ; but proving, at 
the same time, that it may be quite void of offence, without 
possessing a single point of attraction. Music, shows, 
farces, melodramas, and pantomimes have effectually pushed 
Thalia and Melpomene from their pedestals. Never was 
the English drama at so low, so deplorable an ebb, as it is 
at the present moment. Almost may it be said that we 
have no native modern drama; for the stage presents us 
little of novelty but successive adaptations from the French. 
It is no longer a public mirror, which, by reflecting back to 
us correct images of ourselves, and of the times in which 
we live, may assist us to amend the defects of both ; but a 
magic lantern, offering to our view an unmeaning jumble 
of foreign frivolities, grotesque monsters, and fantastic 
fooleries. Into the causes of this deplorable perversion it 



PLAYHOUSE NOTICES. 311 

is not our province to enter; but when we say that we 
deeply regret it, we do but express the sentiments of all 
those who are jealous of our reputation for literature and 
good taste, and who feel that a well-regulated theatre, 
where all classes, from the king to the cobbler, may meet 
together to share the same intellectual feast, to read the 
same moral lesson, to be similarly and simultaneously 
affected by the sympathies of our coromon nature, must, in 
its civilizing and exalting effects upon the community, con, 
duce equally to the important pur-j^oses of general amuse- 
ment and of public instruction. 



APPENDIX. 

BY SAMUEL WOODWORTH, ESQ. 

AMERICAN FESTIVALS, GAKES, AND AMUSEMENTS, 



INTRODUCTION. 



The author of the foregoing pages, having confined his 
researches and descriptions to the Eastern hemisphere, has 
left a very interesting work somewhat imperfect and incom- 
plete, as regards an American reader. To supply this 
omission, at the request of the publishers of the " Family 
Library," some pains have been taken to procure informa- 
tion on the subject of such festivals, games, and amuse- 
ments as are peculiar to the citizens of the United States 
and the aborigines of the American continent. 

It will be readily conceived, however, that these must, of 
necessity, be very limited in number and variety ; for though 
the talent of invention is an acknowledged characteristic of 
our countrymen, it is generally exercised on subjects of 
practical or imagined utility, and seldom, if ever, in multi- 
plying their sources of amusement. As colonists of different 
European nations, the early settlers of America were content 
to walk in the footsteps of their ancestors ; and those whose 
professional pursuits or system of moral discipline admitted 
of any species of secular recreations very naturally adopted 
such as were practised in the land of their forefathers. 

From the aborigines or primitive inhabitants of this 
western world we have condescended to borrow little or 
nothing on the score of amusement. Their religious and 
political festivals, however, their war-dances, games, &c. are 
not only interesting in themselves, but veiy properly claim the 



314 APPENDIX. 

first place in an essay devoted to American customs, habits, 
and manners. We shall therefore proceed to give such an 
account of them as our prescribed limits will permit ; with 
an assurance to the reader that the facts here stated have 
been derived from authentic sources. 



CHAPTER I. 

Festivals, Games, and Amusements of the American Indians. 

Lo, the poor Indian I whose urilutored mind 

Sees God in clouds, or hears him in llie wind; 

His soul, proud science never taught to stray 

Far as the solar walk, or ndlky-way ; 

Yet simple nature to his hope has given, 

Behind the cloud-topp'd hill, an humbler heaven. — Porfi. 

Dr. Boudinot, who, in his ingenious work entitled "A 
Star in the West,^^ has advanced some plausible reasons in 
support of his theory that the ahor-tgines of America were 
the lineal descendants of the " Icng-lost tribes of Israel,''''* 
has collected and imbodied many interesting facts illustra- 
tive of the subject before us. He informs us, on authorities 
that cannot be disputed, that the Indians, generally, care- 
fully observe five religious festivals, viz : — 

1. Their Feast of First-fruits ; and after it, on the 
evening of the same day, a feast resembling the Jewish 
Passover. 

2. The Hunters Feast ; resembling the Hebrew Pentecost. 

3. The Feast of Harvest and Day of Expiation of Sin. 

4. A daily Sacrifice. 
.5. A Feast of Love. 

Independent of these five general festivals, there are a 
number of local and occasional feasts, peculiar to the different 
tribes, of which we are unable to furnish any particular de- 
scription. Respecting those named above, however, most 
travellers are agreed in confinning the following facts : — 

1. Feast of First-fruits. — Both William Penn and 

* See 2d Esdras, chap.xiii.v. 39^ 



INDIAN FEASTS. 315 

Mr. Adair have described this festival in tenns that forcibly 
remind us of the ancient Hebrews, whose first-fruits were 
always consecrated to the Lord. Penn attended several of 
these feasts, and speaks of them from his own observation. 
" The first and fattest buck they kill," says he, " goeth to 
the fire, where he is all burned, with a doleful ditty of him 
who performs the ceremony ; but with such marvellous 
fervency and labour of body, that he will even sweat to a 
foam." The dances which succeed, are performed " with 
equal earnestness and labour, but with great appearance of 
joy. In the fall, when the corn cometh in, they begin to 
feast one another. Their entertainment," adds the benevo- 
lent writer, who was a guest, " was at a great seat by a 
spring under some shady trees.* It consisted of tweyity 
lucks, with hot cakes made of new corn, with both wheat 
and beans, which they make up in a square form, in the 
leaves of the corn, and then bake them in the ashes. They 
then fall to dancing," &c. 

Mr. Adair says, " On the day appointed (as soon as their 
first spring produce comes in), while the sanctified new 
fruits are dressing, six old ' beloved women't come to their 
temples (or sacred wigwams of worship), and dance the 
* beloved dance,' with joyfiil hearts. They observe a solemn 
procession as they enter the holy ground, or 'beloved square,' 
carrying in one hand a bundle of small branches of various 
green trees ; when they are joined by the same number of 
'beloved old men,' who carry a cane in one hand, adorned 
with white feathers, having green boughs in the other hand. 
Their heads are dressed with white plumes, and their women 
in their finest clothes, and anointed with bear's grease or 
oil ; having, also, small tortoise-shells and white pebbles 
fastened to a piece of white dressed deer-skin, which is tied 
to each of their legs. 

" The eldest of the ' beloved men' leads the sacred dance 
at the head of the innermost row, which of course is next 
the holy fire. He begins the dance, after once going round 
the holy fire, in solemn and religious silence. He then, in 
the next circle, invokes yah, after their usual manner, on a 



* See BarJecwes in the Southern States. 

t The term beloved, in their language, means sacred ot consecratedtO 
religious purposes. 



316 APPENDIX. 

bass key, and with a short accent. In another circle he 
sings ho, ho ; which is repeated by all the religious proces- 
sion, till they finish that circle. Then, in another round, 
they repeat he, he, in like manner, in regular notes, and 
keeping time in the dance. Another circle is continued in 
like manner, with repeating the word wah, wah ; making, in 
the whole, the divine and holy name of ' Yah-ho-he-wah'' 
[or Jehovak], A little after this is finished, which takes a 
considerable time, they begin again, going fresh rounds, 
singing hal, hal — le, le — lu, lu — yah, yah, in like manner ; 
and frequently the whole train strike up • hallelu, hallelu ! 
halleluyah I halleluyah ! with great earnestness, fervour, and 
joy ; while each strikes the ground, with right and left foot 
alternate^, very quick, but well timed. Then a kind of 
hollow-sounding drum joins the sacred choir, which excites 
the old female singers to chant forth their grateful hymns 
and praises to the Divine Spirit, and to redouble their quick, 
joyful steps, in imitation of the leader of the ' beloved men,' 
at their head. 

" At the end of this notable religious dance, the old • be- 
loved women' return home, to hasten the feast of the new 
sanctified fruits. In the mean time, every one at the temple 
drinks plentifully of the cussend, and other bitter liquids, to 
cleanse their sinful bodies, as they suppose. After which, 
they go to some convenient deep water, and there, according 
to the ceremonial law of the Hebrews, they wash away 
their sins with water. They then return with great joy, in 
solemn procession, singing their notes of praise, till they 
again enter the holy ground, to eat of the new delicious 
fruits, which are brought to the outside of the square by the 
old ' beloved women.' They all behave so modestly, and 
are possessed of such an extraordinary constancy and equa- 
nimity in pursuit of their religious mysteries, that they do 
not show the least outward emotions of pleasure at the first 
sight of the sanctified new fruits. 

" On the evening of the same day they have another 
public feast, besides that of the first-fruits, which looks 
somewhat like the Passover ; when a great quantity of 
venison is provided, with other things, dressed in the usual 
way, and distributed to all the guests ; of which they eat 
freely that evening : but that which is left is thrown into 
the fire and burned, as none of it must remain till sun- 



INDIAN FEASTS. 317 

rise on the next day, nor must a bone of the venison be 
broken."* 

2. The Hunter' Feast; otherwise called the "Feast 
of Weeks," similar to the Hebrew Pentecost. Dr. Beatty 
says that once in the year, some of the tribes of Indians 
beyond the Ohio choose from among themselves twelve men, 
•who go out and provide twelve deer ; and each of them cuts 
a small sapling, from which they strip the bark, to make a 
tent, by sticking one end into the ground, bending the tops 
over one another, and covering the poles with blankets. 
Then the tvjelve men choose each of them a stone, which 
they make hot in the fire, and place them together after the 
manner of an altar, within the tent, and then burn the fat 
of the insides of the deer thereon. At the time they are 
making this offering the men within cry to the Indians 
without, who attend as worshippers, " We pray or praise." 
They without answer, "We hear." Then those in the 
tent cry, " Ho-hah .'" very loud and long, which appeared to 
be something in sound like halle-lujah ! After the fat was 
thus offered, some tribes burned tobacco, cut fine, upon the 
same stones, supposed in imitation of incense. Other 
tribes choose only ten men, who provide but ten deer, ten 
saplings or poles, and te?i stones. t 

3. Feast of Harvest. The most solemn and import- 
ant feast and fast observed by the Indians is one which 
strikingly corresponds with the Jewish Feast of Harvest 
and Dai/ of Expiation of Sin. This grand annual festival 
was formerly kept at the beginning of the first new moon 
in which the Indian corn became full-eared, as we learn 
from Adair. But for many years past the time of cele- 
bration has been regulated by the season of harvest. 

According to Charlevoix, the harvest among the Natchez^ 
on the Mississippi, is in common. The great chief fixes 
the day for the beginning of the festival of the harvest, 
which lasts three days, spent in sports and feasting. Each 
private person contributes something of his hunting, his fish- 
ing, and his other provisions ; as, maize, beans, and melons. 
The great chief presides at the feast — all the sachems are 
round him in a respectful posture. 

The fathers of families never fail to bring to the temple 

* See " ^ Star in the West^ p. 207. t Ibid. p. 212. 
Dd2 



318 APPENDIX. 

the first produce of the harvest, and of every thing that 
they gather ; and they do the same by all the presents that 
are made to their nation. They expose them at the door 
of the temple ; the keeper of which, after presenting them 
to the Spirit, carries them to the king, who distributes them 
to whom he pleases. The seeds are in lilce manner offered 
before the temple, with great ceremony. But the offerings 
which are made of bread and flour every new moon are 
for the use of the keepers of the temple. 

As the offerings of the fruits of the harvest precede a 
long strict fast of two nights and a day, they gormandize 
such a piodigious quantity of strong food, as to enable them 
to keep inviolate the succeeding fast. The feast lasts only 
from morning to sunset. 

When a town celebrates the lush, or first fall fruits, 
having previously provided themselves with new clothes, 
new pots, pans, and other household utensils and furniture, 
they collect all their worn-out clothes and other despicable 
things, sweep and clean their houses, squares, and the 
whole town of their filth ; which, with all the remaining 
grain, and other old provisions, they cast together in one 
common heap, and consume it with fire. After taking 
medicine, and fasting for three days, all the fire in the town 
is extinguished. During this fast they abstain from the 
gratification of every appetite and passion whatever. A 
general amnesty is proclaimed. All malefactors may return 
to their town, and they are absolved from their crimes, 
which are now forgotten, and they are restored to favour. 
On the fourth morning, the high-priest, or chief " beloved 
man," by rubbing dry wood together, produces new fire in 
the public square, from whence every habitation in the 
town is supplied with the new and pure flame. Then the 
women go forth to the harvest-fields, and bring from thence 
new corn and fruits ; which, being prepared in the best 
manner, in various dishes, and drink withal, is brought with 
solemnity to the square, where the people are assembled, 
apparelled in their new clothes and decorations. The men 
having regaled themselves, the remainder is carri id off, and 
distributed among the families of the town. The women 
and children solace themselves in their separate families, 
and in the evening repair to the public square, where they 
tUmCdy sing, and rejoice during the whole night, observing a 



INDIAN GAMES. 319 

proper and exemplary decorum. This continues three 
days ; and the four following days they receive visits, and 
rejoice with their friends from neighbouring towns, who 
have also purified and prepared themselves.* 

4. Feast of the daily Sacrifice. — The Hebrews, it 
is well known, offered daily sacrifices of a lamb, every 
morning and evening ; and, except the skin and entrails, 
it was burnt to ashes. The Indians have a very humble 
imitation of this rite. The women always throw a small 
piece of the fattest of the meat into the fire, before they 
begin to eat. At times they view it with pleased attention, 
and pretend to draw omens from it. This they will do, 
though they are quite alone, and not seen by any one.f 

5. Feast of Love. — Every spring season one town or 
more of the Mississippi Floridians keep a solemn feast of 
love, to renew their old friendships. They assemble three 
nights before the feast, and on the fourth they eat together. 
During the intermediate space, the young men and women 
dance in circles from the evening till the morning. 

War-Dances, &c. — Indian war-dances have been so 
frequently exhibited on the stage, and in other public places, 
by chiefs and warriors who have visited our populous cities, 
that a description in this place is deemed unnecessary. 
Their object appears to be twofold : martial and religious — 
to drill the young warriors in the exercise of their weapons, 
and, at the same time, to invoke the aid of the Great Spirit 
in the impending conflict. They resemble the military 
dances of the Greeks, described in the former part of this 
work, p. 196. 

Indian Games, &c. — It has been observed (Says Mr. 
Sandford),t that nations preserve no part of their economy 
with so much exactness as their games, sports, and amuse- 
ments. Being daily repeated, they can seldom be forgotten ; 
and as they are chiefly confined to the young, they have 
the best chance of making a permanent impression. In- 
dian games, however, are not numerous, and seem chiefly 
designed to render the combatants athletic and swift of 



* The Natchez are now extinct. See Dr. Boudinot's '^Starintha 
West:' jmges 216 and 225. 
t Ibid, page 227. 
t Sandford's History of the United States. 



320 APPENDIX. 

foot. Some of the western tribes formerly had a play,* 
which, for want of the appropriate name, we must call a 
scramble. A billet of wood, about eighteen inches long, 
made round, and polished very smooth, was thrown to a 
great distance by one of the chiefs. The younger lads of 
the tribe immediately started in pursuit of it. The fleetest 
runner was not always the stoutest wrestler ; to get the 
billet was some merit ; but to keep it was a greater ; and 
it was so slippery, that it changed hands perhaps a thou- 
sand times before the strongest proclaimed his victory.* 

But the most universal and most manly game, is that of 
ball.f This is frequently played by several hundreds; and 
different tribes will sometimes play against each other. The 
ball is made of deer-skin, stuffed with hair, and sewed with 
sinews. The sticks are from three to four feet long ; and, 
being curved at the end, a web is made of thongs, for the 
purpose of catching the ball. The goals are two stakes^ 
set in the ground, about six hundrea yards apart. The 
ball is tossed into the air, at an equal distance from each ; 
and the object is to throw it beyond the one or the other. 
The parties enter upon the combat with great eagerness ; 
the velocity of their movements is scarcely credible ; the 
ball seldom touches the ground, but is seen constantly 
shooting into the air ; and, while one is upon the point of 
hurling it in one direction, an antagonist strikes down his 
club, catches the ball in his web, and sends it to another. 
" They play with so much vehemence," says a traveller, 
*' that they frequently wound each other, and sometimes a 
bone is broken. But, notwithstanding these accidents, 
there never appears to be any spite, or wanton exertions of 
strength to affect them ; nor do disputes ever happen be- 
tween the parties.''^ 

* Jovtel's Journal Historique du dernier Voyage, &c. 
t Sandford's United States, p. clxxxii. 
j Carver, p. 366 



FESTIVALS IN NEW-ENGLAND 321 



CHAPTER II. 

Festivals, Gaines, and Amusements in New-England. 

Not so the Yankee — his abundant feast, 

With simples furnished, and with plainness dressed 

A numerous offspring gathers round his board, 

And cheers alike the servant and the lord ; 

Whose well-bought hanger prompts the joyous taste, 

And health attends them from the sweet repast.— Barlow 

The first settlers of the " New World," as America 
was then called, had but little time, and perhaps still less 
inclination, to indulge in pastimes and recreations. The 
almost incessant labours, dangers, and privations incidental 
to a state of colonial infancy, on the borders of an unexplored 
wilderness, tenanted by hostile savages, furnished sufficient 
occupation for the minds and bodies of the European 
emigrants. Indeed, the rigid moral discipline and peculiar 
religious tenets of the puritans of New-England were, in 
many respects, incompatible with such games and amuse- 
ments as prevailed in the mother country ; while the reli- 
gious festivals, retained by some of the reformed churches, 
were held in abhorrence, as impious abominations but 
little inferior in atrocity to those of the papal hierarchy ! 

It is well known that the colony of Plymouth, which 
commenced in the year 1620, was planted "principally for 
the sake of the unmolested enjoyment of the institutions 
of religion. They wished also to make an experiment of 
a civil commonwealth, to be regulated and governed on the 
principles of the sacred Scriptures."* 

Among the early penal enactments of this colony was 
one said to be framed in the following extraordinary phrase- 
ology : " No one shall keep Christmas, or any saint-day, 
read common-prayer, make mince-pies, dance, play cards, 
or play on any instrument of music, except the drum, 
trumpet, and Jews'-harp." The observance of Christinas 

* Tytler's History. 



322 APPENDIX. 

in particular, was so much in opposition to their ideas of 
reUgious propriety, that they rather encouraged its desecra- 
tion by the youth of the colony ; and hence originated the 
custom, still prevalent in many parts of the country (but 
which is more honoured in the breach than in the observ- 
ance), of selecting that day for a trial of skill in shooting 
at tame turkeys, geese, &c. " set up" for the purpose, and 
throwing clubs at cocks and other domestic fowl.* In this 
instance, as in many others, the spirit of bigotry overshot 
its mark, and actually created a secular holiday, in opposing 
a religious festival. 

This opposition to the feast days of the church of Eng- 
land was further manifested by the frequent and rigid ob- 
servance of days especially set apart by themselves for 
fastings abstinence, and " the mortification of the flesh." 
In prosperity or adversity, peace or war, victory or defeat, 
plenty or famine, whether the colony was blessed with 
health or wasted by pestilence, it was all the same ; a 
general fast was their favourite mode of expressing thanks 
as well as contrition. " A day of fasting, humihation, and 
prayer" was appointed " by authority," on which " all 
servile labour and recreation, inconsistent with the solem- 
nity of said day," were strictly forbidden, and all " crea- 
ture comforts" prohibited by law. This was a " dark age" 
in the annals of the eastern colonies, and the glorious in- 
vention of a " New-England Thanksgiving''^ was reserved 
for another generation. Of the inventors of this celebrated 
festival nothing is now known ; but could the felicitous 
idea be traced to an individual, his name should live in 
marble and brass, and his fame be perpetuated in poetry 
and song If 

A " New-England Thanksgiving" (and south of 
Connecticut such holydays hardly deserve the name) is 
dear to the heart of every son and daughter of that favoured 
region. It is sweet in the anticipation, in the enjoyment. 



* See " Shrove-Tuesday," page 118 of this volume. 

t It is worthy of remark, that the first settlers of New-England, who 
were endeavouring to establish a civil commonwealth on the principles 
of the Jewish theocracy, should have deviated from (heir model in one 
very important particular, viz. in rejecting festivals, and observing fre- 
quent fasts ; whereas the Jews kept thirty holydays every year, and 
only one fast ! See the 23d and 24th pages of this work ; also page 87 



FESTIVALS IN NEW-ENGLAND. 323 

and in the remembrance. Infancy, youth, and old age, — 
all ranks, degrees, sexes, and complexions are rendered 
happy by its annual return ; and all unite in the heart, if 
not with the voice, in thus shouting its welcome : 

Hail, the season of joy and festivity, 

Social pleasures and innocent mirth, 
Which smooths the path of age's declivity, 

And gives to infancy Edeti on earths 
When Plenty her treasure bestows without measure, 

And innocent Pleasure pursues her career ; 
While Love's soft wishes still sweeten our dishes, 

And heighten the blisses of thanksgiving cheer. 

Pastoral Melodies, 

It is justly observed, in a former part of this work, that 
" the earliest festivals of the Greeks, and indeed of all na- 
tions, were kept in the autumn^ after gathering in the fruits 
of the earth, when gratitude prompted them to offer up 
sacrifices to heaven, and social festivities were the natural 
consequence of plenty." In another place our author 
says, "The Saxons had the same custom, always setting 
aside a week, after harvest, for holydays ; and our festive 
* harvest-home* [in England] is but a continuation of the 
ancient practice." 

In all ages and countries these annual festivities have 
ever been attended with some religious rites, plainly show- 
ing that their origin was gratitude to heaven. This is also 
the case as regards the New-England festival popularly 
denominated ^thanksgiving" This joyous anniversary 
(which was doubtless first instituted in the Eastern colonies 
as a substitute for Christmas) takes place late in autumn, 
after the fruits of the earth are gathered in, and the labours 
of the husbandman have been rewarded by the fruition of 
harvest. The first or second Thursday in December is 
generally appointed for this purpose by the governor of the 
state, who issues a proclamation to that effect ; a printed 
copy of which is sent to every clergyman in the state. On 
the first Sabbath after its reception, at the conclusion of the 
sermon, this proclamation is read from the pulpit ; and in 
some parishes, on each succeeding Sabbath until the time 
appointed. 

When the happy day arrives, the people assemble in 
their respective places of worship, dressed in their beet 



324 APPENDIX. 

attire. Here they listen to an appropriate sermon, and 
join in prayer, hymns, and anthems expressly adapted to 
the occasion. These services generally occupy about two 
hours, and then are over for the day; the remainder of 
which is devoted to feasting, sports, games, and amuse- 
ments of various descriptions. 

The " thanksgiving di7iner" however, forms a prominent 
feature of the picture. Every farmer's table now literally 
" groans with the weight of the feast." Flesh and fowl 
of his own raising and fattening — fish and game from his 
own streams and woodlands — ^vegetables of his own plant- 
ing — ^butter, milk, and cheese, the product of his own dairy, 
are now found in luxuriant profusion upon his hospi- 
table table; while the delicious ^^ pumpkin pie" leads a host 
of other dainties in the bountiful dessert. Clear sparkling 
cider, mead, perry, and spruce beer, all and each the product 
of the homestead, lend their exhilarating influence ; and if 
ever a set of joyous hearts and smiling faces assembled 
together in social harmony, — if genuine happiness is ever 
experienced at the festal board, it is on such occasions. 
Apprentices in the metropolis, who are only permitted to 
visit their parental and rural homes once or twice in the 
year, are now sure to be present ; and a hoary-headed 
patriarch often presides at these domestic banquets, where 
the guests comprise two or three generations of his own 
descendants. It is a jubilee that draws together members 
of the same family who have been long separated ; and as 
a ball invariably succeeds the festivities of the day, there is 
no small excitement among the village lasses. 

In the cities and populous towns of New-England this 
festival is not observed with the same strictness, nor en- 
joyed with the same zest, that distinguishes it in country 
villages. It is true, that the churches of every denomina- 
tion are opened, and appropriate services performed ; but 
these are followed by no extraordinary festivities or re- 
joicings. This circumstance is probably owing to the 
modern introduction of other holydays, particularly that of 
Christmas^ which is now kept, with more or less devotion, 
by Christians of every denomination ; and will be more 
particularly noticed among the holydays of New-York. 

New-Year's Day in NewEngland, as in most other parts 
of the world, is devoted to the cordial interchange of friendly 



FESTIVALS IN NEW-ENGLAND. 323 

wishes, and the usual " compliments of the season." 
Printed poetical addresses, written expressly for the occa- 
sion, are presented to the citizens (who seldom grudge tho 
quid fro quo), not only by the carriers of newspapers and 
other periodicals, but also, in some places, by the watch- 
men, lamplighters, bakers, milkmen, &c. &c. 

May-Day. — Although, in New-England, May seldom 
makes her entree arrayed in those enchanting smiles and 
blushes with which she charms the inhabitants of more 
southern regions, she is still greeted with a hearty wel- 
come by the lovers of green trees, tender grass, and other 
symptoms of sylvan beauties, which are yet in embryo. 
Hundreds of the refined citizens of Boston, whose evening 
pleasures or morning dreams deprive them for twelve 
months of the glorious spectacle of a rising sun, are reli- 
giously scrupulous to witness that phenomenon on the 
first of May. Pedaneous excursions are planned, and 
parties made up, on the previous evening ; and wo Ijetide 
the lover who is so deficient in gallantry as to oversleep 
the hour, while his wakeful mistress is anxiously waiting 
to hear his signal-tap at her window. 

The first dawn of day (if it break serenely) is generally 
i,he appointed time for commencing these rural perambula- 
tions : 

" Then, arm in arm, the pairs depart, 
With agile feet, and lightsome heart." 

Their walks generally extend two or three miles into the 
country, in such directions as whim or fancy may dictate. 
Some cross the different bridges which connect the penin- 
sula with Cambridge, Charlestown, and Dorchester ; others 
stroll out to Roxbury and Brookline ; while many content 
themselves with sauntering over the Common, and plucking 
green boughs from the trees in the Mall. The ostensible 
object, with all, is to inhale the morning air, behold the 
rising sun, and collect May-greens andfiowers, — that is, if 
any of the latter can be found in bloom. Every one is 
ambitious of carrying home a large quantity of such rural 
«!poils, as so many trophies of a victory obtained over indo- 
lence or timidity ; and they certainly form no despicablo 
ornament for the vacant fireplace, or the mantel above it. 
To beai an active part in the ceremony above described is 
Ee 



326 ,. APPENDIX. 

termed "to go a Maying;^* a laudable custom, which has 
been handed down by our ancestors, and celebrated by one 
of their descendants, in the following lines : — 

" The night in which pale April yields to May, 
How few enjoy repose 1 The country lass, 
Intent upon the morning walk, with him 
Who holds her gentle heart, on various plans 
In hopeful cogitations, spends the night — 
What hat or riband will become her best — 
What most will fend to make herself outvie 
The blushing fragrant month they rise to hail. 
O, by my soul ! this ^Maying'' has delights 
Which I shall ne'er forget, ' while memory holds 
Her seat' within my brain. In youth's fair dawn, 
I forward look'd to this delightful hour 
With feelings — feelings none can paint ; for then, 
Some gentle, artless, unaffected nymph 
Was sure to be the partner of my walk, 
Accept my nosegays (sweetened by her breath), 
And, without chiding, let me steal a kiss 
From lips more fragrant than the flower she held." 

Quarter Day. 

For a description of "Maying'*^ in Old England the 
reader is referred to page 125 of this work. 

Militia Trainings, with their attendant sports and 
amusements, are familiar to every reader, and hardly require 
a description. The sooner they are done away with, in our 
opinion, the better will it be for the moral as well as the 
military character of our country. This remark is not 
intended to apply to the splendid martial pageants of our 
principal cities, composed of volunteer corps, whose dress 
and discipline render them an honour and an ornament to 
their country. See Target-shooting, in New- York. 

Election Day, as it is improperly denominated, is an 
anniversary of some importance in the metropolis of Massa- 
chusetts, and at the seat of government in each of the 
New-England States. It is not the day, however, on 
which the elective franchise is exercised by the citizens, 
but that on which the governor-elect and other successful 
candidates are installed in office. In Boston, this event is 
celebrated annually on the last Wednesday of May, on which 
occasion the city is filled with strangers from the country, 
who flock into town from all quarters to witness the military 
patade, and other shows and spectacles connected with the 
cereroonies of the day. The Common and Mall are sur- 



FESTIVALS IN NEW-ENGLAND. 327 

rounded with tents and booths for the vending of refresh- 
ments,* and every place of public amusement holds out 
unusaal attractions to the excited multitude. 

Another holyday of equal festivity, and, in some respects 
of superior splendour, follows hard upon the heels of the ono 
just alluded to. This is called " Artillery Election,^'' it being 
the anniversary of the organization of a military corps, 
called the '■^Ancient and Honourable Artillery,'*^ instituted 
in the year 1638. This celebration occurs on the first 
Monday in June, when the newly elected officers re- 
ceive their commissions and assume their stations. Both 
these festivals, it is believed, are attended with some appro- 
priate religious exercises. Our reminiscences, however, are 
of more than twenty years' standing ; and customs, like 
fashions, are prone to change. 

In Connecticut, the holyday of Election is annually ob- 
served with like ceremonies and similar hilarity. On the 
day previous, the military companies at the seat of govern- 
ment are ordered out to meet the governor-elect, and escort 
him into town. On the following day they again parade, 
and take the lead of the civic procession, which moves in the 
following order, viz. the military ; sheriffs ; governor 
secretary and treasurer ; chaplain ; senators ; speaker and 
clerks ; representatives ; clergy ; citizens. The procession 
thus formed proceeds to the church, where a discourse is 
delivered by a clergyman designated for that purpose by 
the governor. From the church they return in the same 
order to the state-house ; and, finally, the privileged ones 
partake of a splendid dinner, at the expense of the state. 
The number of clergymen who usually attended on this 
occasion was from one hundred and fifty to two hundred ! 
" This Election-day,''^ says our polite and attentive corres- 
pondent, " was, and now is, observed as the greatest holyday 
in the year. But since the Constitution was formed, there 
have been changes at various times ; and at present no part 
of the expense of this parade is paid from the state treasury; 
and it is now understood that the legislature can commence 
their session without a sermon to direct their counsels." 

The Fourth of July, the anniversary of American Inde- 

* Such was the custom twenty years ago. It may have changed alnoo 
thatponod. 



328 APPENDIX. 

pendence, is celebrated in all the cities and populous towns 
of New-England, by military parades, firing of cannon, dis- 
play of colours, ringing of bells, patriotic orations, public 
dinners, &c. 

Landing of the Pilgrims. — The anniversary of this 
event is celebrated at Plymouth, on the 22d of December, 
by an appropriate oration, and a dinner of clams, that being 
the food which, it is said, sustained the families of the pious 
emigrants during the severe winter of 1620-21. The whole 
number which landed was one hundred and one ; one half 
of whom, before the opening of spring, were cut off by fam- 
ine and disease. In celebrating this event, however, their 
grateful and fortunate descendants do not confine themselves 
to that humble dish alone ; for though clams, dressed in va- 
rious ways, form a conspicuous feature of the banquet, they 
are generally accompanied with some luxuries to which the 
fugitives from persecution were total strangers. 

Battle of Bunker Hill. — On the 17th of June, the citi- 
zens of Boston and Charlestown unite in celebrating the 
anniversary of this important event. A splendid civic pro- 
cession, under a military escort, proceeds to the battle-ground, 
where a patriotic oration is delivered, and other appropriate 
exercises are performed ; to which succeed such festivities as 
are customary on like occasions, viz. dinners, toasts, odes, 
music, &c. 

Commencement at Cambridge. — The annual Commence- 
ment at Harvard University takes place in August. The in- 
habitants of Cambridge honour this anniversary with a festi- 
val of three days' duration, which is attended by numerous 
visiters from Boston, Charlestown, and the neighbouring 
towns. It may be proper to observe here, that on this and 
each of the foregoing occasions, a general holyday is enjoyed 
by mechanics, apprentices, servants, labourers, teachers, 
pupils, and all subordinates whose services can be dispensed 
with by their employers. The hearts of such anticipate these 
festivals with hope and joy, and remember them when past 
with delight and approbation. 

Husking Frolics. — The well-known adage, "Many 
hands make light work," is frequently illustrated by the 
New-England farmers, in uniting logether to assist a neigh- 
bour in any temporary emergency that requires expedition 
and despatch. The person thus benefited provides ample 



FESTIVALS IN NEW-ENGLAND. 329 

stores of refreshments, to regale his obliging neighbours, on 
the conclusion of their voluntary tasks ; and then holds 
himself in readiness, on a similar occasion, to " go and do 
likewise." This mode of " exchanging works," as they 
call it, is found very beneficial ; as much more can be accom- 
plished, in a given time, by a union than by a divisicm of 
physical powers. A conviction of this fact was doubtless 
the origin of " husking- parties,^^ a brief description of which 
will not be deemed inappropriate in this place. 

When the Indian corn, or maize, has been gathered from 
the fields and deposited in the corn-house, or the centre-floor 
of the bam, where it is ranged in convenient heaps and 
rows, an evening is appointed for the husking ; which is 
simply stripping the leaves or husks from the full-ripened 
cars, and is performed by hand. Those who are invited 
assemble at an early hour, take their seats in rows or circles, 
at convenient distances, and attack the ponderous heaps 
before them. The ears are stripped with a dexterous hand, 
and thrown into a general heap, while the husks are cast 
behind the operators. In the mean time the song, and jest, 
and laugh go round, while the sparkling cider is freely circu- 
lated, as " the work goes bravely on." When all is finished, 
the company repair to the house of their hospitable host, and 
partake of a bounteous banquet prepared for the occasion. 
This is not unfrequently followed by a ball ; as most of the 
young men are accompanied by their favourite lasses. 

A New-England husking, however, has been so well 
described by Barlow, in his inimitable poem in praise of 
" hasty-pudding," that it would be unpardonable not to give 
an extract before we conclude. The third canto thus coiO' 
mences : — 

"The days grow short ; but though the falling sua 
To the glad swain pj-oclaims his day's work done, 
Night's pleasing shades his various task prolong, 
And yield new subject to my various song. 
For now, the com-hoiise filled, the harvest-home, 
The invited neighbours to the husking come ; 
A frolic scene, where work, and mirth, and play 
Unite their channs to chase the hours away. 

Where the huge heap lies centred in the hall, 
The lamp suspended from the cheerful wall. 
Brown corn-fed nymphs, and strong hard-handed beaus* 
Alternate ranged, extend in circling rpws, 
Ee2 



dSCi APPENDIX. 

Assume their seats, the solid mass attack, 
The dry husks rustle, and the corn-cobs crack,* 
The song, the laugh, alternate notes resound, 
And the sweet cider trips in silence round. 

The laws of huskmg every wight can tell. 

And sure no laws he ever keeps so well : — 

For each red ear, a general kiss he gains. 

With each smut-ear he soils the luckless swains; 

But when to some sweet maid the prize is cast, 

Red as her lips, and taper as her waist, 

She walks the rounds,'and culls one favoured beau, 

Who leaps the luscious tribute to bestow. 

Various the sport, as are the wit and brains 
Of well-pleased lasses, and contending swains; 
Till the vast mound of corn is swept away, 
And he that gets the last ear wins the day. 

Meanwhile, the housewife plies her evening care 
The well-earned feast to hasten and prepare ; 

****** 

When to the board the thronging buskers pour, 
And take their seats, as at the corn before." 

The games and amusements of New-England are similar 
to those of other sections of the United States. The young 
men are expert in a variety of games at ball, — such as 
cricket, base, cat, football, trapball, also quoits, &c. Bil- 
liards, cards, ninepins, shovelboard, domino, backgammon, 
bagatelle, checkers or drafts, and some other games, not 
recollected, are occasionally practised by all classes ; but 
generally with temperance and moderation. Gambling is a 
vice but Uttle known in the Eastern States, especially in 
those places where the drama and other rational amuse- 
ments are tolerated by law. Concerts, balls, and several 
well-selected museums are favourite resorts of the fair sex, 
in cities and populous towns ; while the village and coun- 
try lasses enjoy their spinydnsr and quilting bevies, singing- 
schools, and -pawn parties, with at least an equal zest. In 
winter, sleighing, skating, and "coursing down-hill" are 
amusements familiar to both sexes, and all ages. Bear- 
baiting, cock-fighting, and other cruel amusements aro 
unknown. 

• There are few lines in English poetry in which the ionni is a 
cnore perfect echo to the sense than it is in this, 



FESTIVALS IN THE MIDDLE STATES. 331 



CHAPTER III. 

Festivals, Games, and Amusements in the Middle States, 

" This life were but a dreary scene, 
Without such little spots o*f green ; 
But every joy, like this we taste, 
Imparts new strength to tread the waste. 
Such pleasures leave no sting behind, 
But sweetly elevate the mind, 
Till every heart, with generous glow, 
Is blest to see its neighbour so." 

Pastoral Melodies, 

Althouoh more than one hundred and sixty years have 
elapsed since the Dutch colony of New-Netherlands sub- 
mitted to the British crown, and became an English prov- 
ince ; yet we find that many of the customs and peculiar 
observances of the original settlers are still prevalent in the 
city and state of New-York. The festivities of a Dutch 
Christmas, New-Year's, and Paas, were readily copied by 
their new neighbours, until the jolly Saint Nicholas, in a 
dark night, was unable to distinguish his own legitimate 
urchins from those of pure English blood. He therefore 
good-naturedly distributed his favours to all, with no other 
distinction than what arose from superior merit. Hence, 
notwithstanding that the present population of New-York 
comprises representatives of almost " every nation, kindred, 
tongue, and people" under the face of heaven, there is little, 
if any, dissimilarity in their holyday amusements. The fea- 
tures of the picture are Dutch, — though the shades and 
colouring may be of a variety of schools. 

To commence our subject with the opening of the year, 
— the first day of January has always been observed as a 
festival of no little importance by the citizens of the Middle 
States ; not only as one of the Christmas holydays, but also 
as a landmark or milestone in the rugged journey of human 
life ; or rather as an inn or stopping-place for refreshments, 
at which the wayrworn traveller pauses with delight, and 
then presses forward with renovated hope and vigour. 



332 APPENDIX. 

*' It is at once so natural and so laudable," says our author. 
*' to commemorate the nativity of the New-year, which is 
a sort of second birth-day of our own, by acts of grateful 
worship to Heaven, and of beneficence towards our fellow- 
creatures, that this mode of its celebration will be found to 
have prevailed, with little variety of observance, among all 
ages'and people." 

New-year's Day has often been the theme of poets and 
novelists, and, perhaps, we cannot make a more appropriate 
quotation, in illustration of the subject, than the following 
from the novel of Koningsmarke, by our countryman J. K. 
Paulding, a writer, of no less celebrity than the one whom 
he here compliments : — 

" Winter, with silver locks and sparkling icicles, now 
gradually approached under cover of his north-west windj, 
his pelting storms, cold frosty mornings, and bitter freezing 
nights. And here we will take occasion to express our 
obligations to the popular author of the Pioneers* for the 
pleasure we have derived from his happy delineations of 
the progress of our seasons, and the successive changes 
which mark their course. All that remember their youthful 
days in the country, and look back with tender, melancholy 
enjoyment upon their slippery gambols on the ice, their 
Christmas pies and nut-crackings by the cheerful fireside, 
will read his pages with a gratified spirit, and thank him 
heartily for having refreshed their memory with the half- 
effaced recollections of scenes and manners, labours and 
delights, which, in the progress of time and the changes 
which every where mark his course, will, in some future 
age, perhaps, live only in the touches of his pen. 

" The holydays, those wintry blessings which cheer the 
heart of young and old, and give to the gloomy depths of 
winter the life and spirit of laughing, jolly spring, were 
now near at hand. [A. D. 1685.] The chopping-knife gave 
token of goodly mincepies, and the bustle of the kitchen 
afforded shrewd indications of what was coming by-and-by. 
The celebration of the New-year, it is well known, came 
originally from the northern nations of Europe, who still 
keep up many of the practices, amusements, and enjoy- 
ments known to their ancestors. The governor valued 

* Cooper. 



FESTIVALS IN THE MIDDLE STATES. 333 

himself upon being a genuine northern man, and conse- 
quently held the winter holy days in special favour and affec- 
tion. In addition to this hereditary attachment to ancient 
customs, it was shrewdly suspected that his zeal in cele- 
brating these good old sports was not a little quickened in 
consequence of William Penn having hinted, in the course 
of their controversy, that the practice of keeping holydays 
savoured, not only of popery, but paganism. 

" Scarce was the sun above the horizon, when the village 
was alive with rosy boys and girls, dressed in their new 
suits, and going forth with such warm anticipations of hap- 
piness, as time and experience imperceptibly fritter away 
into languid hopes or strengthening apprehensions. 

" ' Happy New-year ." came from every mouth and every 
heart. Spiced beverages and lusty cakes were given away 
with liberal open hand ; everybody was welcomed to every 
house ; all seemed to forget their little heartburnings and 
disputes of yore — all seemed happy, and all were so ; and 
the dominie, who always wore his coat with four great 
pockets, on New-year's day came home and emptied them 
seven times of loads of New-year cakes ! 

" When the gay groups had finished their rounds in the 
village, the ice in front [on the river J was seen all alive with 
the small- fry of Elsingburgh, gambolling and skating, sliding 
and tumbling, helter-skelter, and making the frost-bit ears 
of winter glad with the sounds of mirth and revelry. In 
one place was a group playing at hurley, with crooked 
sticks, with which they sometimes hit the ball, and some- 
times each other's shins. In another, a knot of slidersy 
following in a row, so that if the foremost fell, the rest were 
sure to tumble over him. A Uttle farther might be seen a 
few, that had the good fortune to possess a pair of skates, 
luxuriating in that most graceful of all exercises, and emu- 
lated by some half a dozen little urchins, with smooth 
bones fastened to their feet, in imitation of the others, 
skating away with a gravity and perseverance worthy of 
better implements. All was fun, laughter, revelry, and 
happiness ; and that day, the icy mirror of the noble Dela- 
ware reflected as light hearts as ever beat together in the 
new world." 

Such are supposed to have been the juvenile sports of 
Neio-year''s day, in the Middle States, one hundred and fifty 



334 APPENDIX. 

years ago ; and such, with little variation, are they at the 
present period. In the city of New- York, in particular, the 
good old custom of paying passing visits, and reviving 
friendships on New-year's day, is still kept up. " It is a 
practice," says the writer just quoted," hallowed by time and 
sanctioned by its salutary consequences. It brings long 
estranged friends to remember and visit each other ; it gives 
life and gayety to a dreary, inclement season ; it is, in short, 
a social, honest, old-fashioned custom, and as such I honour 
it." Public business of every kind is suspended ; the 
courts, banks, custom-house, post-office, all are closed ; and 
few shopkeepers have the hardihood to open their bow-win- 
dows on New-year's day. Debtors are safe from arrest, can 
boldly meet their creditors, and wish them a happy New- 
year. Even that mighty, restless engine, the daily press, 
stands still to-day ; and hungry quidnuncs must fast for 
news, or receive it verbally from the prattling tongues of the 
fair distributors of cakes and coffee, with whom they ex- 
change the compliments of the season. But though the 
news-press be silent, some of its subordinate agents are this 
day in all their glory. The Carrier, who has faithfully 
served his patrons, " through summer's heat and winter's 
cold," now reaps his well-earned reward in a harvest of 
silver. Each of his subscribers is presented with a printed 
poetical address, previously prepared for the occasion by 
some laureat bard, who is thus himself enabled to join in 
the festivities of the day. No matter what may be the 
literary merits or demerits of this annual effusion, it is 
always well received and well paid for. No one criticises 
or complains, for all are determined to be happy, and where 
numbers unite in such a laudable determination, it is not a 
trifle that can defeat their object. How cold, unfeeling, and 
bigoted must be that heart that would throw a straw in the 
way of such innocent enjoyments ! and yet, some S7ich there 
are ! The day is short ; but a long evening of festivity is 
to follow. The theatres and the museums are all open ; 
while a grand ball, " got up expressly for the occasion," 
exhibits its fascinations to the lovers of dancing. 

Valentine's Day. — The old English custom of sending 
valentines, and drawing lots for husbands and spouses, on the 
14th of February, was never much practised by the people 
of the United States, and is now almost unknown. In a 



FESTIVALS IN THE MIDDLE STATES. 336 

fbnner part of this volume, page 116, are some remarks on 
the subject, to which we would subjoin the following : In 
the old illustrations of the Common Prayer-book, we are 
told that St. Valentine " was a man of most admirable 
parts, and so famous for his love and charity, that the custom 
of choosing valentines upon his festival took its rise from 
thence." Mr. Brande, in his Illustrations of the Antiqui- 
tates Vulgares, maintains that there is no authority for 
supposing St. Valentine was more famous for love and 
charity than other saints. The probability is, that the 
custom of sending valentines and using divinations on this 
day originated in the popular opinion that the birds choose 
their mates about this time. In lialy, where the custom 
originated, this may be the case ; but in the United States, 
these connubial contracts among the feathered choir occur 
at a much later period, say April. 

Washington's Birth-day. — The 22d of February is 
kept as a holyday in some parts of the United States, in 
honour of the birth of Washington. It was formerly cele- 
brated in the city of New-York with a splendid civic and 
military procession, oration, dinner, &c. The custom, how- 
ever, we are sorry to add, has gradually declined, and is at 
length entirely laid aside. 

St. Patrick's Day. — The 17th of March is annually 
celebrated by the patriotic sons of Erin, in New-York, 
Philadelphia, and Baltimore, in honour of their tutelar saint. 
Many native Americans of the first respectability unite 
with their adopted fellow-citizens on this occasion. 

Easter Day. — This is a festival instituted to commemo- 
rate the resurrection of our Saviour; and is the first feast 
day after the long abstinence of Lent. It occurs on the first 
Sunday after the full moon which happens upon, or next 
after, the 21st day of March ; and if the full moon happen 
upon a Sunday, Easter-day is the Sunday following. For 
a more particular description, the reader is referred to the 
conclusion of the tenth chapter of the foregoing work. 

Paas, or Pasche. — The first of these words (pronounced 
as if written pauce, rhyming with sauce), is the Dutch terra 
for Easter-day. It answers to the pasche, or passover of the 
Hebrews, and most nations still give it this name, pasche, 
paskf paque. But our ancestors seem to have preferred a 
pagan origin for the name of a Christian festival , for the 



330 APPENDIX. 

■word Easter is supposed to be from Eoster^ the goddess of 
love, or the Venus of the North, in honour of whom a 
festival was celebrated by the Saxons, in April ; whence this 
month was called Eostermonath. By the term paas, how- 
ever, our merry schoolboys in the Middle States (who cannot 
be supposed to be very deeply versed in theological etymol- 
ogy), understand neither more nor less than Easter-Monday^ 
which they define thus : " the day for cracking eggs." 

The custom of dying or staining eggs, on Easter-day, and 
presenting them to children, is very ancient, and is supposed 
to have had an allusion to the resurrection of our Saviour ; 
which might have been typified by the process of hatching 
a living animal from a mass of apparently inert matter, so 
much like animating the dead.* The custom is common 
among the modem Greeks, the Russians, and, indeed, in all 
countries where the Catholic religion prevails, whether 
under the Greek or Latin dispensations. The rich in 
Russia were accustomed to exchange gilt eggs, on Easter- 
day, accompanied by kisses and embraces ; " after which," 
says the Abbe d'Auteroche, " they drink a great deal of 
brandy !" In New-York, eggs, died or stained with a va- 
riety of colours, are displayed for sale on Easter-Monday, 
by grocers, hucksters, fruiterers, and other venders of edible 
refreshments. These are called paas-eggs, or pasch-eggs. 

We cannot find that the custom of cracking eggs on 
Easter-Monday, as practised in New-York and some other 
parts of the United States, by the descendants of the Dutch 
settlers, is known among other nations. Neither Mr. Bourne 
nor Mr. Brande mentions it in their respective accounts of 
the " Antiquitates Vulgares ;" and Dr. Chandler, as well as 
Hackluyt, omit it in their notice of the practice of dying 
and exchanging eggs at Easter, by the modern Greeks and 
Russians. Its origin is unknown to us, and it is believed to 
be peculiar to the United States. The game (if it be one) 
is played in the following manner : — 

Both parties, we will suppose, are prepared for the contest, 
being already " supplied with the munitions of war ;" say, 
a dozen eggs each, carefully selected and scientifically 
tested, by striking the butts and points (the big and littlr 

* A different explanation is given iii a former part of this volame^ at 
DBnl94. 



FESTIVALS IN THE MIDDLE STATES, 337 

ends, against the front teeth, in order to be certain that the 
shells are hard, strong, thick, stout, and if possible, " uncrack' 
ahle.^^ The challenger then encloses an egg in one of his 
hands, so that no part of it is visible except the point (or 
butti as the conditions may be), which does not protrude 
above the horizontal level of the circling thumb and fingers, 
but remains some distance below it, generally supported 
beneath by the palm of the other hand. Holding it in this 
manner, he challenges his antagonist to hit it with the ;?omi 
or butt of another egg. The shell of one of them must, 
of course, yield to the force of the concussion, and the 
cracked egg becomes the prize of the victor. In this manner, 
hundreds of eggs are lost and won in a short time ; and as 
the slight injury which they receive does not lessen their 
intrinsic value, the winnings are of some account to the 
victors. 

The contest, as we have surveyed it thus far, is all fair. 
But, " poor human nature !" we are sometimes almost 
tempted to believe that the devil challenged Eve to gamble 
for the apple, there is such an inherent propensity in man 
(even in the comparative innocent state of childhood) to 
take advantage of his fellows. Artificial eggs, curiously 
made of wood, marble, and other hard substances, are fre- 
quently used with such address as completely to deceive the 
eye, and thus the unsuspecting party falls an easy prey to the 
artifice of his antagonist, and finds himself suddenly stripped 
of his capital, and put hors du combat, without being able 
to account for the misfortune. But wo betide the juvenile 
sharper should the trick be detected ! The scene exhibited 
on a certain race-course, between a certain prince and 
another jockey, would here be repeated on a smaller scale. 
Ten to one but an attempt would be made to crack some- 
thing harder than eggs. ; 

This custom probably owes its origin to the same pro- 
pensity which impels boys to trials of skill and strength, 
to feats of activity, and to rivalries of all sorts in their 
sports and occupations. 

St. George's Day. — The 23d of April is celebrated by 
several associations of loyal Englishmen, in the United 
States, in honour of their patron and champion, St. George. 
It is not included, however, among our author's " holydfiy 
notices" of England, though he has mentioned almost eveiy 
Ff 



338 APPENDIX. 

Other saint in the calendar. St. George, it is well known, 
was one of those redoubtable knights-errant celebrated in 
the romance of the " Seven Champions of Christendom." 
His famous victory over the dragon is faithfully repre- 
sented on one side of the beautiful gold coin called an 
English sovereign. Those who would " further seek his 
merits to disclose" are referred to the wild romances of 
the middle ages, particularly to the one just named ; the 
witcheries of which had no inconsiderable influence in 
turning the brain of the celebrated knight of La Mancha. 

May-day in New-York. — We are almost tempted, like 
the author of the foregoing work, to give May-day a chapter 
by itself ; for it is an annual celebration, in the city of New- 
York, that may challenge all the world for a parallel. A 
faithful description of it in prose were impossible, and it 
has frequently been attempted in poetry without success. 
The dramatist has exerted his skill in vain, and the painter 
has wasted his colours to the same purpose. 

" Naught but itself can e'er itself portray." 

May-day in New-York must be seen, and heard, and felt, 
and tasted, in order to be known and appreciated. The most 
expressive and appi )priate language that could be addiessed 
to a stranger on this subject must be quoted from the awful 
tragedy of Tom Thumb. The stranger would naturally 
exclaim, 

" Sure such a day as this was never seen." 

To which the citizen would respond, in the language of 
Noodle, 

" This day, oh ! Mr. Doodle, is a day 
Indeed ! a day you never saw before." 

The present volume, according to the titlepage, is de- 
voted to " festivals, games, and amusements ;" but whether 
the anniversary under consideration be one, or all, or none 
of these, requires some little philosophy to decide. It can* 
not be a festival ; for eating on the first of May is entirely 
out of the question. 

■ ■■ "- " Sleepless was the night. 
And fbodless is the day, fbr all must fast.*^ 



FESTIVALS IN THE MIDDLE STATES. 339 

It IS not an amusement, except to those landlords who are 
lucky enough to receive their rents on this day (for, we 
ought to have sooner said, it is quarter-day). It must, 
therefore, be a game in which those who make the greatest 
moves are often the greatest losers; the winners being 
those who do not mote at all ; as the only gambler who is 
really and permanently successful is the keeper of the 
table. It is called a game in the poem from which the fol- 
lowing lines are extracted : 

" There is a sport well-known in country towns, 
yclept the toilet, which I've often joined 
At milkmaids' parties, where the humour lies 
In having chairs enough for all but ane. 
Who takes the middle of the happy ring, 
Unseated ; till, the signal given, all 
Must change their places ; who obtains no seat, 
Incurs a forfeit, and the centre takes, 
To give the signal for another change. 
Such is the game our city represents 
The first of May ; for each must change his place. 
Uncertain if he get a seat or no." 

This is no poetical fiction ; as a very few years have 
elapsed since so many luckless tenants remained without 
tenements to shelter their families, that the common council 
debated on the propriety of erecting barracks in the Park 
for their accommodation ! 

To be more explicit, — which may be necessary should 
these pages chance to fall into the hands of a foreigner, — 
all rents, leases, tenures, &c. in the city of New- York, com- 
mence and expire on the first day of May ; so that about 
one-third of a population of two hundred thousand souls 
change their residence annually on that day ! It will be 
readily conceived that this general movement must create 
a great bustle and disturbance ; and as all the rents are 
paid at that period, what an immense sum must be drawn 
at once from the regular routine of trade ! This one cir- 
cumstance is the sole reason of there being in New- York 
a much greater number of distressed tenants, in proportion 
to the population, than in any other city of the Union. 
They cannot procure a small temporary loan, for the plain 
and simple reason, that the friends who readily accommo- 
date them on other occasions find it sufficiently difficult to 
pay their own rents on this. It is certainly a bad system ; 
but it is, perhaps, impossible to devise ai;i adequate remedy. 



340, APPENDIX. 

Spring Racks. — ^Horse-racing, under some wholesome 
restrictions, is tolerated by law, in the State of New-York. 
About the middle of May and October, the Union Course, 
on Long Island, exhibits an animated scene for three days, 
attended by immense crowds of spectators from the city 
and neighbouring villages. 

Indepekdence. — The fourth of July, which (as we 
have before observed) is celebrated in all parts of the 
United States, is distinguished by much splendour and fes- 
tivity in the city of New- York. A particular description, 
however, is unnecessary for this work, as the subject must 
be familiar to every reader who is in the habit of perusing 
the daily papers. 

Evacuation. — The 25th of November is observed by 
the citizens of New-York, in remembrance of the evacua- 
tion of the city by the British troops in 1783. For many 
years after this event its anniversary was celebrated with 
an enthusiasm and splendour little inferior to that exhibited 
on the fourth of July ; but the patriotic spirit in which its 
observance originated has gradually evaporated ; until, at 
length, the return of this anniversary is met with com- 
parative indifference. It is now distinguished by nothing 
but a morning salute^ by a few gray-headed heroes of the 
revolution, "the hardy gleanings of many a desperate 
fight," called the veteran corps ; and a miUtary parade in 
the forenoon. This growing indifference to our patriotic 
festivals is, doubtless, encouraged by many well-meaning, 
but mistaken people ; who, in concert with a similar class 
in England, seem anxious to " restrict, as much as pos- 
sible, the few diversions, and the scanty hours of relaxation 
allowed to the labouring classes," in both countries. 

St. Andrew's Day. — The 30th of November is cele- 
brated by the Scots in the United States, in honour of 
Scotia's patron saint, who is supposed to have preached the 
gospel in Scythia, and that he was there put to death on a 
cross of the figure of the letter X, which is called St. An- 
drew's cross. 

Christmas. — So much has been already written, " said, 
and sung," on this animating subject, that little remains 
for the exercise of our pen, except references to the essays 
of others ; and by turning to page 135 of this volume the 
reader will find some interesting facts with which every 
one ought to be acquainted. 



FESTIVALS IN THE MIDDLE STATES. 341 

Christmas f as the closing festival of the year, eclipses all 
its predecessors in splendour and hilarity ; and Christmas- 
eve, ill the city of New-York, exhibits a spectacle, which, 
to a stranger, must be highly pleasing and effective. 
Whole rows of confectionary stores and toy shops, fanci- 
fully, and often splendidly, decorated with festoons of 
bright silk drapery, interspersed with flowers and ever- 
greens, are brilliantly illuminated with gas-lights, arranged 
in every shape and figure that fancy can devise. During 
the evening, until midnight, these places are crowded with 
visiters of both sexes and all ages ; some selecting toys 
and fruits for holyday presents ; others merely lounging 
from shop to shop to enjoy the varied scene. But the 
most interesting, and, in our estimation, the most delight- 
ful sight of all, is the happy and animated countenances 
of children on this occasion. Their joy cannot be re- 
strained, but bursts out in boisterous mirth, or beams from 
the countenance in sunny smiles, which are still more ex- 
pressive. If the weather be fair, music is heard from 
various quarters, while charging peals from the chiming 
bells of old Trinity fall at intervals on the delighted ear. 

"Hark, the merry bells chiming from Trinity, 

Charm the ear with their musical din, 
Telling all throughout the vicinity, 

Holyday gambols arc now to begin. 
Friends and relations, with ford salutations, 

And warm gratulations, together api)ear, 
While lovers and misses with holyday kisses, 

Greet merry Christmas and happy New- Year." 

An editorial article in the " New-York Mirror" contains 
the following sentiments on this subject : 

" The throngs of happy children that we encounter in the 
streets, whose little smiling faces look almost blue with the 
cold, but whom wind and weather cannot restrain from 
sallying out to spend their holyday finances in the nearest 
toyshop ; the greeting of * a happy Christmas to you,* 
that salutes our ears into whatever house we step, and for 
saying which the urchins expect a return, but not in kind ; 
and the peculiar nature of the amusements and sports 
around the evening fireside, where a sort of moral sunshine 
<liffuses itself, bright in proportion to the bleak and dis- 
agreeable state of external nature ; all are but so many 
Ff2 



342 APPENDIX. 

evidences of the undecaying spirit with which this festive 
period of the year is still observed. It is, to young and 
old, to the reflecting and the thoughtless, to all who de- 
pend for their felicity on the only true source of temporal 
happiness, social intercourse, — it is, to such, a season of 
real pleasure. The lively tale around the blazing hearth ; 
the sprightly jest, not meant to conceal some bitter taunt, 
but flowing from the heart's fulness ; the song, the dance, 
the jocund laugh, are but so many modes of evincing that 
* all is sunshine in each jovial breast.' 

" In country places, where homebom joys must necessarily 
be most resorted to, the holyday season aflTords, perhaps, 
the highest degree of satisfaction. The gigantic yule log,* 
a long time previously selected for the purpose, is rolled 
upon the hearth ; and around the crackling flame soon 
kindled before it is placed (to take away part of their 
winter temperature,) a plentiful abundance of nuts, and 
cakes, and sparkling cider to regale the mirthful circle. 
Then, 

" * in the sounding hall they wake 

The rural gambol. Rustic sports go round ; 
The simple joke that takes the shepherd's heart, 
Easily pleased ; the long, loud laugh sincere ; 
The kiss, snatched hasty from the sidelong maid, 
On purpose guardless, or pretending sleep ; 
The leap, the slap, the haul ; and, shook to notes 
Of native music, the respondent dance. 
Thus jocund fleets with them the Christmas night.' 

" The remark we have made, that a greater degree of hap- 
piness during the period every where devoted to festivity, 
is experienced in the country than in the city, where so 
many showy sources of amusement are congregated, might 
lead a meditative mind to some very useful reflections. — 
The number and nature of the lures held out in thickly 
populated places to draw us from our firesides cannot but 
be considered as one great cause of infelicity. Cowper 
well calls 

• Domestic happiness the only bliss 
Of Paradise that has survived the fall,' 



* See page 135 of this volume. 



FESTIVALS IN THE MIDDLE STATES. 343 

and th?>t bliss is to be tasted only in calmness and seclusion. 
Not to the crowded theatre, where the heart and mind are 
wrought up to unnatural and unsalutary excitement, and 
where pleasure roams ' with zoneless waist, and wander- 
ing eyes ;' not to the public haunt, where politicians vex 
the air with varying themes and mixed discourse ; not in 
the mazy dance, in fashion's lighted dome, 

' Where a gay insect in his summer shine, 
The fop, light fluttering, spreads his mealy wings ;' 

but in the thought-befriending stillness of our homes we 
experience the sweetest and the purest joys that man can 
ever know. We are no enemy, as we have often shown, 
to a judicious use of public amusements ; but it is the abuse 
of them that we censure. We are fully of the opinion, 
expressed by the Earl of Orrery, that ' a single day passed 
under our own roof, with our friends and family, is worth a 
thousand elsewhere.' 

" ' In all my wanderings through this vale of tears. 
From infancy to manhood's riper years ; 
Whatever pains assailed, or griefs oppressed, 
Christmas and New-year always saw me blest. 
A lengthened absence o'er, how pleasant then, 
To meet the friends dearest loved again. 
Grasp the warm hand, or share the fond embrace, 
And see new smiles lit up in every face. 
'Twas Christmas-eve ! the supper-board was spread , 
The fire blazed high, with logs of hickory fed ; 
The candles, too, unusual lustre lent. 
Candles expressly made for this event. 
Old tales were told, the cheerful glass went round, 
While peals of laughter made the cot resound. 
A thousand welcomes haih?d the truant boy, ' 

And swift the moments flew on w'ngs of joy ; 
Till (as they thought, too soon) the hour of prayer 
Bade the young urchins to tl;eir beds repair. 
But first, the stocking from each little leg, 
Must be suspended to a hook or peg. 
That Santaclaus, who travels all the night, 
Might, in the dark, bestow his favours right. 
These rites observed, they take a parting kiss, 
And go to dream of morning's promised bliss! 
Thus did a week of festive pleasures roll. 
Till New-year's happy morning crown'd the whole.' " 

Turtle Feasts. — These are rural banquets at which 
turtle-soup is the leading and principal dainty. Turtle 
Grove, at Hobokeft, ha« long been the resort of the New- 



S44 



APPENDIX. 



York epicures on these occasions, where they partake of a 
luxurious feast, in the open air, under the shaue of embow- 
ering trees. This delightful retreat has recently been much 
improved by the tasteful proprietor, Colonel Stevens, and 
is now called the Ely sian Fields, admirably fitted for a fete 
champetre. 

Krout Feasts. — There is, in the city of New-York, a 
regularly organized association of respectable and temperate 
bon vivans, entitled the " Krout Club," the members of 
which are mostly, if not all, of Dutch origin or extraction, 
— ^lineal descendants of .the old Knickerbocker stock. Once 
a year, or as much oftener as they please, they " hold a 
solemn feast" in honour of the customs of their forefathers. 
On such occasions the festive board is loaded with every 
dainty the season affords ; but the most prominent and 
characteristic viands are sour-crout,* smoked sausages cut 
into ringlets, and smoked goose. The presiding officer at 
these banquets, who is honoured with the title of king, is 
generally arrayed in a regal robe of purple cabbage-leaves, 
while his royal brows are circled with a diadem T)f the same 
materiaL By virtue of his office and prerogative, his majesty is 
exempt from every duty, even that of thinking — the least de- 
gree of activity, except that of mastication, being considered 
incompatible with the dignity of his kingly station. His reign, 
however, is generally short, as he who devours the most 
krout at a single sitting always succeeds him in office, and 
presides at the next festival ; at the conclusion of which, 
he, in turn, is succeeded by some greater gourmand than 
himself. 

Taeget Firing. — This is atrial of skill between military 
competitors, where pn honorary prize is awarded to the 
best marksman. It is an ancient usage, having been prac- 
tised in every age, and by the youth of every nation that 
had the least pretensions to martial attainments. It was 
thus the ancients acquired their superior skill in the use of 
the bow and the javelin ; and it is by a similar competition 
that the modern Indian youths become so expert in throwing 
the hatchet- The invention of gunpowder has furnished 

* Sour-crout is made by placing minced or chopped cabbage in layers, 
in a barrel, with a handful of salt and caraway-seed between the layers; 
then ramming down the whole, covering it, pressing it with a heavy 
fcreight, and suffering it to stand till it has iione throimh fermentation. 



FESTIVALS IN THE MIDDLE STATES. 345 

new excitements to the competitor, and rendered the exer- 
cise more interesting to the spectator. 

It is customary for the uniformed companies of cavalry, 
artillery, infantry, and riflemen attached to the various 
divisions, brigades, and regiments of militia throughout the 
United States, to assemble once a year for practice and 
improvement at target-firing. This is always a voluntary 
parade, and takes place during the spring and summer 
months. All expenses are paid by the subscriptions of the 
officers and privates. These excursions are conducted in 
the following manner : — At early dawn, the members " fully 
uniformed, armed, and equipped, as the law directs," meet 
at the place of rendezvous with colours, drums, and " other 
martial appurtenances to boot ;" and being formed into a 
company or battalion, as the case may be, under the com- 
mand of the oldest subaltern, break into column, and march 
to a steamboat, which conveys them some short distance 
into the country, where, on a suitable lawn, previously 
selected for the purpose by the "committee of arrange- 
ments," a target is erected, the ground measured, and all 
things got in readiness. 

Judges are appointed, consisting usually of the field 
officers of the regiment or brigade to which the party is 
attached, who are invited guests. The privates are then 
counted off from the right, and present themselves as their 
numbers are called by the captain. Three rounds are dis- 
charged. The soldier who has the two best shots out of 
the three nearest the centre of the target is pronounced the 
victor, and the prize is adjudged accordingly. This is either 
a musket, a sword, a pair of pistols, or a gold medal, which 
is delivered, with an appropriate address, by the senior 
officer, in front of the company, who present arms during 
this part of the ceremony. After this the exercises and 
evolutions are performed. The whole party then repair to 
the dinner-table, where a sumptuous repast is spread out 
under the shade of trees, ornamented with flags and other 
military trophies. When the festivities of the day are con- 
cluded, the corps in " good health and spirits" march again 
to the steamboat, which is in waiting to convey them to the 
city, where they arrive about dusk, disembark with the 
usual clamour and " circumstance of glorious war," march 
to the place appointed, and are there dismissed. 



346 APPENDIX. 

These target-firing excursions are very pleasant affairs to 
all who partake of them, and tend to create and preserve 
good feeling and harmony among the officers and men. 
But we cannot commend the innovation which has recently 
been introduced, of publishing the proceedings in next day's 
newspapers, together with the toasts, speeches, &c. The 
military are thus not unfrequently made a party in politics ; 
their entertainment assumes all the importance of a public 
dinner ; and a public dinner on small occasions is, to use 
the language of Mrs. Malaprop, " most tolerable, and not to 
be endured." We feel confident the custom, originated in 
bad taste, can answer no good purpose, and ought to be 
discontinued. 

Aquatic Excursions are pleasant and healthful recrea- 
tions ; for the enjoyment of which abundant faciUties are 
furnished by nature in almost every part of the United 
States. Independent of an extensive seaboard, indented 
with innumerable, bays, harbours, and other inlets, the 
interior of the country is every where veined with beautiful 
rivers, and gemmed with pellucid lakes. In this respect 
the State of New-York surpasses all her sisters ; while her 
metropolis enjoys aquatic advantages, both for business and 
pleasure, which, perhaps, are not equalled in any part of 
the world. Steamboats fitted up in the most elegant 
manner, expressly for the accommodation of pleasure- 
parties, are daily, almost hourly, departing and returning, 
filled with hundreds of happy mortals. Whatever direction 
these may take in leaving the city, the delighted inmates 
are certain to be regaled with scenery of enchanting love- 
liness. 

Let the spectator take his stand on a well-known prome- 
nade, in the city of New- York, called the Battery, an ob- 
tuse point of land, formed by the junction of two majestic 
rivers. The bay and harbour are extended before him, 
studded with little green islands, and sprinkled with ves- 
sels of every size. To the left is the verdant shore of 
Long Island ; to the right he may look up the noble Hud- 
son, where Hoboken, Weehawk, and beyond them the 
gray majestic precipices present themselves in succes- 
sion. In front are the low but picturesque shores of 
Jersey, spotted with little thriving villages, and bounded 
in the distance by waving blue hills ; and down the river, 



FESTIVALS IN THE MIDDLE STATES. 347 

he heights of Staten Island, on one side, finely contrast 
with the low shores of the opposite isle. Whichever way 
he directs his view, his eye will rest upon some of those 
floating palaces, displaying their pennons of smoke far 
behind them, and containing in their splendid saloons, or 
on their elevated promenades, happy groups of the beauti- 
ful and the gay, enjoying the breezy pleasures of an aquatic 
excursion. 

Public Shows, &c. — All our cities are amply supplied 
with public shows, and places of amusement. Theatres, 
concerts, pleasure-gardens, equestrian exhibitions, museums, 
zoological gardens, menageries of wild beasts, jugglers, 
dec. &c., all meet with sufficient encouragement ; while 
reading-rooms, academies of the fine arts, and other fashion- 
able resorts hold forth their attractions to professional 
artists, amateurs, literary loungers, and bookless authors. 

Gymnasiums, or institutions for teaching and practising 
athletic exercises, have been established in Philadelphia, 
New- York, and some other cities. That of Mr. Fuller, in 
New- York, is the only one we have examined, and we do 
not hesitate to pronounce it worthy the highest approba- 
tion. It ought to be visited by every person interested in 
the health and morals of youth. Mr. Fuller has nublished 
a pamphlet, entitled the " Elements of Gymnastics," con- 
taining an account of its origin, with answers to objections, 
its physical and moral effects, and full directions for practis- 
ing ttie whole of the gymnastic exercises. This pamphlet 
ought to be in the hands of every parent, and we think few 
fathers would hesitate to adopt its principles. The terms 
of teaching are very modeyate — the benefits incalculable. 



^48 APPENDIX. 



CHAPTER IV. 

Festivals^ Games, and Amusements in the Southern States, 

" O blessed be tbe torrid zone for ever, whose rapid vegetation quickens 
nature into suclx benignity." — Cumberland. 

" Warn them they judge not of superior beings, 
Souls made of fire, and children of the sun.'* — Zakoa. 

If there be any festivals, games, or amusements, peculiar 
to the Southern States, we shall probably find them to be as 
different from those of the Northern sections of the Union 
as are the feelings, opinions, and manners of the inhabit 
ants. The amusements of a people, philosophers contend, 
always correspond with their national or sectional character ; 
and the latter, we have reason to believe, is ever more 
or less influenced by climate, soil, and location, com- 
bined with other external circumstances and contingencies 
incidental thereto. Look at Europe, where the inhabit- 
ants, for instance, if not lineal descendants from the abori- 
gines of that country, have at least been naturalized for 
many centuries, and contrast a northern with a southern 
nation, and we shall see as much difference in their charac- 
ters and amusements, as in their respective climates. In 
the cold, cheerless, rugged regions of Norway, where 
incessant physical exertion is requisite to procure the mere 
necessaries of existence, we find an industrious, enterpris- 
ing, hardy race, resembling in mind and feature the harsh- 
ness and wildness of surrounding nu,ture. But let us visit 
the sunny plains of Italy, where nature requires no soliciting 
for her sweetest favours, and we shall meet with a polished, 
tasteful, luxurious people, addicted to indolence, music, and 
love. The amusements of the former (when they are per- 
mitted to indulge in any) are rough, manly, and athletic ; 
while those of the latter are soft, e£femint.te, and sensual.* 

♦ It Is well known to all Who are conversant with history, that the 
elimate of Italy is nowver) difTerent ft-om what it was eighteen lutodred 
years ago ; and »o is the character of the people. 



FESTIVALS IN THE SOUTHERN STATES. 34& 

But we find that the same degrees of latitude do not pro- 
duce the same climates, nor the same moral and physical 
effects, on the western side of the Atlantic as are exhibited 
on the other. Naples in Italy, and New-York in America^ 
are on the same parallel of latitude, and so are SSicily and 
"Virginia. But how dif!erent is the climate, and how dis- 
similar are the characters, manners, habits, customs, and 
amusements of the inhabitants, on the same parallel ! The 
difference in character, however, may be partially ac- 
counted for by the fact, that the citizens of New-York 
and Virginia are descendants of European emigrants from 
much higher latitudes, if not more temperate climates than 
their own. Hence, instead of the soft effeminacy, sensual- 
ity, and indolence of the enslaved and debased Sicilian, the 
honourable and high-minded Virginian exhibits that chival- 
ric, manly, reckless daring in his amusements which charac- 
terized the English cavaliers, whose blood he inherits ; and 
which, so far from degenerating beneath the fervid influence 
of a southern clime, has thereby been quickened into richer 
and riper benignity. 

These remarks may go for exactly what they are worth, 
which, we are well aware, is not much ; but when one cannot 
find a motto suitable for his subject, it is certainly no bad 
policy to adapt his subject to the motto. 

The hospitality of the planters south of the Potomac has 
become proverbial. Their doors are ever open to travellers, 
and their tables are never so luxuriantly spread as when 
strangers are to be their guests. In fact, we cool, calculating 
natives of the North can form no accurate idea of the 
character, manners, and customs of the South, until we visit 
that section of the Union. Here, a wealthy farmer will 
politely direct a respectable looking traveller to the nearest 
or best house of public entertainment ; there, a planter 
would feel himself almost insulted if the traveller did not 
consent to become his own guest for a month, or as much 
longer as business or pleasure might induce him to tarry. 
" This spirit of hospitality," says a favourite author,* from 
whom we have oflen quoted, " confers lustre upon a country. 
It is one of the finest of national characteristics ; and it is, 
in a great measure, owing to this, that little Ireland, with all 

♦ Sec Paulding's "Letters from the South * 



350 APPENDIX. 

its bulls and oddities, is still a sort of pet nation to all the 
world, except its stern stepdame. Old England." And 
again, " All the nations of antiquity were hospitable, until 
they became corrupt. Among them, the stranger was a 
sacred character ; and to do him violence, or to refuse him 
shelter, was an offence to the gods. The only life ever 
spared by the stem, unfeeling politician Ulysses was that of 
Heliacon, because he remembered the hospitality of his father. ^^ 

A good book, which we wish was more fashionable, con- 
tains the following precept, not altogether irrelevant to the 
present subject : "Be not forgetful to entertain strangers; 
for thereby some have entertained angels unawares." 

In speaking of the hearty welcome With which he was 
received at the farm-houses of Virginia, the writer before 
quoted thus proceeds : — " At these ' gude houses' one is 
always sure of a welcome, unaffected and unostentatious ; 
not the effect of a sudden fit of generosity, or given for the 
purpose of displaying to the eyes of a stranger the splen- 
dours of the house ; but given without effort, as if it were 
not worth giving, and thus relieving the receiver from the 
weight of obligation. I have been at some of these places, 
and I hope in heaven I shall visit many more ; for, of all the 
characters I covet for my country, that of hospitality is what 
1 covet most." It should be recollected that this writer is a 
Northern man. " For my part," he adds, " not even the most 
substantial benefits warm my heart half so much as the 
recollection of those kind welcomes it has sometimes fallen 
to my lot to receive, when at a distance from home, and 
among strangers. This liberal hospitality, to whatever 
cause it may be owing, is more general in this part of the 
world [the South] than in the Middle and Eastern States.' 
It was, perhaps, this disposition " to entertain strangers" 
that first gave rise to the following peculiar custom. 

Barbecues. — ^A favourite amusement (and generally, at 
the same time, an act of hospitality) in many parts of the 
Southern States, is what they term a barbecue. This is a 
feast in the open air, a fete-champetre, either under the 
shad-e of trees or in an artificial bower. This rural banquet 
(resembling in some respects the turtle-feasts at Hoboken) 
is prepared under the directipn and at the expense of such 
neighbouring gentlemen as choose to unite for the purpose ; 
«ach of whom usually contributes such edible dainties as 



FESTIVALS, ETC. IN THE SOUTHERN STATES. 351 

his taste or convenience may suggest. Independent of 
these ptc-nics, however, there is always some savoury 
animal roasted whole, for this occasion, after the manner of 
the ancients. This is, most commonly, a fat corn-fed 
swine ; and from hence originated the phrase of " going 
the whole hog." In different places, and under other cir- 
cumstances, the victim may be a fine fat buck, a fallow deer, 
a sheep, or other animal. But, to constitute a barbecue^ it 
must be roasted whole, — not a bone of it must be broken. 
These festivals take place during the summer and autumn 
months, when every luxury that the season can afford, ac- 
companied vfith wine, punch, ices, and other suitable refresh- 
ments, is provided in generous abundance. Both sexes 
sometimes partake of this banquet, which is then enlivened 
by a band of music, and succeeded by a rural dance. 

Hoese-Racing. — The sports of the turf are enjoyed with 
much zest by the first classes in many parts of the South ; and 
everywhere the accomplishment of horsemanship is highly 
appreciated. The Virginians, in particular, pride themselves 
on their equestrian feats. They say, that Washington, like 
Alexander, first tamed a wild horse, before he attempted to 
conquer men. But they forget to add, that, unlike Alex- 
ander, our hero next learned to tame his own wild passions 
before he undertook the taming of wild Indians, or the 
chastisement of wild Englishmen. 

CooK-FiGHTiNG is also indulged in with avidity at the 
South; but it is a barbarous amusement, of which we cannot 
approve. This, with its kindred sports of bull and bear- 
baiting, ought to be discountenanced by every friend of 
humanity. The second motto to this chapter, however, 
forbids us to judge too harshly the friends of such amuse- 
ments. Betting runs high in both these sports. 

Deer-Hunting is called a manly sport ; and so, indeed, 
it is, if we admit that the beasts of the forest were made 
for the use of man. For the use of man they were 
undoubtedly made ; but whether for his sport is a different 
question, which ought to be answered by those, on the other 
side of the Atlantic, who keep deer and hares for the sole 
purpose of worrying them to death with hounds and horses. 

Shooting, Fowling, Fishing, &c. are favourite amuse- 
ments in those districts where nature has furnished the 
requisite faciUties for their enjoyment. 



352 APPENDIX. 

TxRaET-SHOoTiNG, and firing at a mark, are practised at 
the South in the same manner that they are in other parts 
of the country, except that they shoot with the rifle u:stead 
of a musket. 

Bass-Hunting is a sport occasionally practised on the 
eastern shore of Maryland, it being performed on horse- 
back ! The equestrians, properly armed and equipped, ride 
into the shallow waters, where the striped-bass and rock- 
fish are found, and pursue their intended victims. When 
a fish is overtaken, he is speared or shot ; which requires 
great dexterity on the part of the horseman. It will be 
recollected that these fish are frequently from two to three 
feet in length. 

After all, however, we can recollect few amusements or 
sports that are peculiar to the South. As respects festivals 
and holydays, we believe, they are not numerous. The 
Catholics and Episcopalians, of course, observe such feast 
days as their respective churches require, particularly 
Christmas and New-year's. TLey sometimes keep 
« Twelfth-Night ;" but'with Uttle, if any, difference from 
the old English ceremonies. The negroes, every winter, 
enjoy a week's recreation, including Christmas and New- 
year's ; during which they prosecute their plays and sports 
in a very ludicrous and extravagant manner ; dressing and 
masking in the most grotesque style, and having, in fact, a 
complete carnival. The anniversary of American independ- 
ence occurs at a season when most of those who can afford 
to travel are inhaling the cooler breezes of the North ; the 
day is still celebrated, however, in all their cities and popu- 
lous towns, with parades, orations, public dinners, &c. 

The Western States, being peopled principally by emi- 
grants from the seaboard, present few novelties applicable 
to our present subject. Their customs and amusements, 
— at least, such of them a? could properly claim a place in 
this Appendix, are similar to those which have already been 
described. But in Illinois, and in our newly-acquired 
territory of West Florida, there exists a peculiar custom, 
which deserves a particular description. This is the 
"shooting of the pad-gaud ;" a diversion resembling that 
which forms so prominent an incident in Walter Scott's 
novel of " Old Mortality," namely, shooting the popinjay. 
The custom was, perhaps, brought from Normandy to 



FESTIVALS, ETC. IN THE SOUTHERN STATES. 353 

Canada, whence it travelled to Illinois, to Mobile, and to 
Pensacola. By the politeness of the editors of the New- 
York Mirror, we have been furnished with a description of 
one of those fUes, from the pen of a gentleman who was 
present. It was given, on this occasion, by three kings, 
who had at different periods obtained this privilege by 
shooting down the fad-gaud, or artificial bird.* The scene 
of action was near Pensacola. 

" The day fixed upon fortunately turned out to be un- 
usually fine ; a circumstance which does not always favour 
such rural festivals, — a general ducking sometimes termi- 
nating those delightful assemblages in the open air. Every 
sort of vehicle was put in requisition, — stages, carriages, 
gigs, and horse-carts ; cavaliers on horseback, and some on 
foot ; crowds of children, and a dusky -posse of plebeians, 
might be seen in motion at an early hour. By ten o'clock 
the streets of Pensacola were entirely deserted, — there was 
scarcely a dog left to keep watch. 

" The place chosen for the amusements of the day was 
at the distance of a mile and a half from the town, on the high 
land to the north, where there is a beautiful grove of spread- 
ing live-oaks. On reaching this spot, rendered more agree- 
able by contrast with the loose sandy road through which 
he had to wade, the writer found a numerous assemblage 
of people, dressed in their holyday apparel, together with 
all the fashion of the town. A long table was spread under 
the deep shade of the trees, and near each end of it stood a 
wide sideboard, fixed against their large trunks, and well 
supplied with refreshments. Beyond the grove there was a 
"bosky dell" filled with the rich, various, and fragrant 
shrubbery of this climate, and around there was the close 
green sod of the open fields, which had formerly been culti- 
vated. Not far off stood the untenanted dwelling, at this 
moment, however, filled to overflowing with the gayest of 
the gay. The dance had already commenced, several sets 
of cotillions were footing it at once to the sound of the 
violin ; and attracted by this animating scene, he left those 
who were seated or moving about singly, or in groups, 

* Gavd is an obsolete French word, signifying a male bird; gaud ind, 
a male turkey; pad, or pap, from papier, a paper bird. The word 
gaudy is, perhaps, derived from the word gaud ; the male bird is almost 
■BireFsally more ornamented by brilliant plumage than the female 
Gg2 



354 APPENDIX. 

through the grove, to join the merry throng. The assem- 
blage of beauty would have made a paradise of any place. 
Pleasure was painted on every countenance. The writer 
promised himself a delightful time, in which he was not 
disappointed. 

" At twelve o'clock the important business of the day was 
announced — the shooting of the pad-gaud. Here it is proper 
to be a little more minute. The body of the bird was some- 
what larger than that of a domestic fowl ; it was made of 
the root of cypress or wild-olive, or other spongy material, 
so that it might be struck by a hundred balls without being 
brought down. An iron rod was passed through it, which 
was driven into the end of a long pole. The distance from 
the place where the shooters took their stand was about 
seventy yards. The head of the gaudy bird was crowned 
with a bunch of artificial flowers, while its spreading wings 
and the sweepy curve of its tail were adorned with a 
hundred ribands of every colour, and fluttering in the 
oreeze — gifts which it had obtained from the ladies during 
the week, while paraded through the town. Every eye was 
now fixed on this object — it was sufficiently near to enable 
each fair maiden to distinguish her gift from the rest — and 
many a generous cavaliero guided by instinct, perhaps by 
some secret intimation, panted to possess himself, if not of 
the whole bird, at least of the favour of his damsel. Eighty 
tickets were drawn from a hat, and the lists forthwith 
opened. Rifles, muskets, fowling-pieces, double or single 
barrelled, with common or percussion locks, were brought 
forth. Officers of the army and navy, citizens, the young 
and old — all engaged in the contest with equal earnestness, 
and with equal gayety and good-humour ; but the imagina- 
tion must supply the rest. 

" The shooting continued one hour and ahalf, until nothing 
remained of the poor bird but a small piece not longer than 
one's hand. As it diminished in size, and the aspirants 
gr«w more eager, the distance was shortened, until at last 
each one was at liberty to take what station he pleased. By 
this time the ornaments of the pad-gaud were transferred 
to the hats and button-holes of the more fortunate marks- 
men, who seldom obtained the riband most valued by them. 
A lucky, or perhaps well-directed shot brought down the 
remaining fragment — a shout ensued, and Mr. V. was pro* 



IfESTIVALS, ETC. IN THE SOUTHERN STATES. 355 

claimed king. Then followed a procession — his majesty- 
elect with the bouquet in his hand, supported by the ex- 
kings, and preceded by music, playing " Hail to the chief." 
The procession passed twice in review before the ladies, 
who were seated, but on coming round the third time, a fair 
lady was chosen queen of the next festival, the bouquet 
was presented to her, the choice was ratified by general 
acclaim, and by the blushes of the maiden. 

" The company soon after sat down to an elegant dinner ; 
after which the dancing was resumed — the fandango follow- 
ing close on the heels of the Scotch reel. About sundown 
the returning population once more filled the streets, like the 
coming in of the tide. Any where else it might have been 
worth while to add, that in the whole of this numerous 
collection there was not to be seen a single instance of ex- 
cess, nor was there the slightest occurrence to disturb the 
harmony and good- humour — but here, the circumstance 
produced no remark. This may be ascribed to the habitual 
temperance of the Spanish population, and still more to the 
formidable influence produced by the presence of the fair. 
It was indeed a pleasant day ; and if there should be 
another pad-gaud while the writer remains here, he is de- 
termined to be one of the party, perhaps an aspirant for the 
honours of the day." 



In conclusion, it may be proper to say, that some amuse- 
ments, &c. have doubtless been forgotten in the hasty com- 
pilation of the foregoing pages ; but such omissions may bo 
supplied in future editions. In thf mean time, any facts, 
hints, or information relating to the subject will be thank- 
fully received by the publishers. 



